#fortunately he is not tired easily

[evilminji]

Oh god yes? Sir Nighteye's powers? I'm pretty sure? END at the targets death! It's why he's so freaked out over Yagi!

Danny would literally give him a migraine.

His "film" looking barely holding together, off color. Ending suddenly.

It? Would give Nighteye a god damned heart condition. Stress ulcers. Who THE FUCK is trying to kill this man, and how are they THIS GOOD AT IT??? Is it All for One? It HAS TO BE. Who ELSE would have some sort of bizarre "sudden death!" Quirk?!?!

AAAAAAAAAAAA-!!!!!!?

And just? Everything's delightful and Nedzu's never been happier. So much Chaos. All of it Heroicly aligned. You can really tell, what people's intentions are, by having them react to three things!

A sentient quirked animal, such as himself. An elite underground hero, such as Eraserhead (they DO tend to have an... air about them. It unnerves a certain sort.). And FINALLY? A particularly kind or upstanding limelight hero! Of which Yagi Toshinori is both!

His conclusion?

As the pre-quirk meme goes! "Same hat!"

How utterly delightful~ He should ask about the Ghosts. He rather suspects? The lad will just... TELL HIM! Oh ho HO! No one would ever THINK to even try that! He should get some tea~

Yagi?

Honestly having kinda a great time right now. Everyone here treats him like a PERSON. Just... just YAGI. He's not even hiding his strength anymore. Is all waving a "yeah, I'm totally All Might" sign in everyone's faces. And? You know what they say?

"Your taste in pizza is SHIT, yagi. Shame! I don't CARE if it 'has more protein that way'! What the HELL man!? That's not the point of PIZZA!!"

He's? Honestly making up reasons for why he needs to come back at this point. Insisting, of course, that he not skip any waiting lists. Crashing more on THIS shitty, broken down, suspiciously stained couch, then the luxury bed in his VERY expensive apartment. The one he barely knows what to do with.

And like? There are always ghosts here. Coming in and out. Hanging out like he is. Chatting to each other. He... he recognizes some. Some before his time. But some... not. It helps, you know? Talking to them. Knowing... Learning...

That Nana and the others are OUT there. Now.

Trying to FIND the bastard.

Finish the job they started, so he doesn't have too. So the next generation can LIVE in peace. Is he upset she won't come face him? Hasn't even talked to Grand? Yeah. He has a lot of emotions right now.

Danny helps. Explains how his parents studied this sort of thing. How he learned about it, was around it all his life.

Nana the Ghost and Nana the woman are two very different people. Not all of who you WERE carries over when you refuse to die. Only the parts that refuse to go. And yeah, new things can grow from that core personality. But? Death is both a massively traumatic incident AND a massively traumatic head injury.

Nana lost a lot of who she WAS.

In return for the Will and Obsession to hunt down All for One. To destroy him.

She's still in there, but he's gonna have to remember, Purpose driven ghosts can be kinda... assholes. They don't mean to be. But they have difficulty thinking of anything BUT their Purpose for hanging on.

He's pretty sure he has some beginners books on this, if you want?

(....yes, please)

But of course. Yagi rolling simultaneous Crit success AND fail on those EQ n IQ rolls. He has learned the Secret Knowledge about Ghosts! It is Suspicious that Danny even KNOWS this! Japan is over run by Ghosts and a lot of people Don't Like That!

Does he tell anybody?

Nnnnnnnope!

Never occurs to him.

Yagi, we love you, but what the hell. David knows. David is fascinated. I-Island is having a BLAST with all these dead scientists coming back to finish their Final Work but now with Fancy Modern Technology ™. No, no, you don't have to PAY them! Give them access to that Technology instead!

Honestly, they may be the ONLY people enjoying this slowly spreading phenomenon. (Well, them and small children. Granny and their favorite Heros are back. Why WOULDN'T everything be awesome?)

Just? Yagi hanging out like it's his college days again. Being a person instead of a symbol, just for a bit. Surrounded by real, unedited, un-white-washed, Heroics History in all it's grief and Hope and tragedy. The golden atlas, who holds the sky, surrounded by not just the light and laughter of friends... but the dying gasps, the last, blood stained, whispers of the Dead.

This is what happened.

This is what occurred.

In quite places, they tried to erase us. My grave was the rubble. My bones ground to dust. I could not save them. There was injustice, Yagi. They called it Peace. Called it Fair and Good. We were good people, we were afraid, they came for us. We saved as many as we could.

It was not enough.

It could never have been enough...

Those people were innocent, afraid!

They paint the past in LIES, Yagi.

Does he love the people he protects less? Is the ugliness of history soul crushing? No. He mourns for them. Vows to Do Better. Make a Better Future. Helps them remember the GOOD of their lives. Memes and jokes, favorite shops and little benchs by the beach. Friends. Movies no one else remembers.

He uplifts.

They like the guy.

And? He's THE penultimate Foe of THAT BASTARD™. THE Bastard. THE Villian. The terror. The Quirk thief. The one villians refuse to name. The one referred to, in terror, in horror. The reason their friends would sometimes just? Disappear. Why children would vanish from their beds. Why Japan lived in terror.

He never DIED. They waited. Waited and waited, for his debts to come due. But he's run and wriggled out of so much. Played the world for fools, from his festering little pits of shadows.

They aren't Heros anymore, Yagi. Not really.

They are Ghosts.

And they are going to KILL him.

The day you find him. The day you fight. The dead will come for their due. And oh, oh Yagi... he has SO MUCH to pay for. Our King waits for us to let go. To be ready, (or at least, ready enough) to release this world. HE is why we can't.

Men like him.

Every nation has one.

And really, they thought they could escape the dead? Who more patient then we? The dead can wait FOREVER if we have too. We'll find them. Justice will be had. Balance restored.

We... we're so ANGRY, Yagi. All we wanted was to help. All we wanted was to be safe. We were afraid. The world changed and changed and all we could do? Was try to change with it. Talk about the beach again, Yagi. Or that soup kitchen you went too? It's warm. You make the world sound like a beautiful place.

Help us remember?

*evil grin of The Ponderings™*

You know who DEFINITELY would have Unfinished Business?

Heroes. Professional "If I could just MOVE, just fight a BIT LONGER, save ONE MORE PERSON" Heroes. It's the ultimate and unending Unfinished Business. To protect people. Not just their friends, their co-workers, but the innocent people around them.

That kid, stuck crying in the rubble.

That business man, screaming in pain, caught in the cross fire.

The People NEED them. They SWORE. Their very SOULS burn with the NEED to help. But... the flesh gave out. Injuries. Age. Quirk overuse. They knew... they KNEW, this was not a safe line of work... but... but! Please! Just one more person! Why can't they just make their breaking, dying, bodies MOVE!

Of course they refuse to move on.

They are needed HERE.

Yet? Their hands pass through. Their voices do not reach. A hell of their own, unknown, making. They can't let go, but they can't HELP either. There isn't enough Ectoplasm here. The walls of their reality overly patched up, since that unfortunate leak a few centuries back.

After all, the Zone had dumped near lethal quantities of unfiltered Ecto into the atmosphere. They're STILL dealing with the mutations and fall out, aren't they? At least, they are according to the Zone. (Wtf is a "Quirk"?) And, yeah, someone should PROBABLY do an assessment on the ecological recovery of the Reality. But like?

Do you have any idea how few people have an Obsession for stuff like that? Wait your turn! The list is long and you're not fuckin special, okay? The agents are BUSY.

Now, you might wonder? Wait. If they aren't moving on. Are DEFINITELY Ghosts. Starving as they are. Refusing to die as they may be. Wouldn't... Wouldn't that leave the whole ass area around their Reality an ecological dead zone? If it got over patched and no Ghosts LEFT, thus noticed, and started to try and work on it from the outside? Assuming the COULD?

Yeah. Yeah it would be!

It's called the "New Wastes"!

There used to be some cool Lairs around there. But there was a turf dispute. Someone DID something. Punched a HOLE. And everyone re-died. It was fixed but never quite re-healed. Portals... don't show up there? For some reason? Meh. Wanna brawl?

No. Danny's curious. He wants ANSWERS.

It's his fatal flaw.

Well... that and his inability to keep his mouth shut. But he likes to think he's funny. So... off he goes! And MAN! Does it feel funky out there! Weird textures. Mmmm, Don't Like THAT ™. It's probably a King thing? The Zone here... FEELS wrong.

Not... the way it's SUPPOSED to be shaped, if that makes sense?

And? It feels... if you sorta squint? Like... a LOT of people AREN'T where they should be. But aren't gonna leave until they're READY. Ooof. Great. Someone messed up again. Why does he KEEP FINDING bits and pockets that need straightening out? Unruffling? It's like he has to keep smooth out this giant peice of fabric with all these stains on it. Clean the messes on it.

He feels more like a maid then a King.

Maybe he is?

Pretty sure he's more of a nanny, since the Zone is more of a whiny yet excitable toddler then anything else. Alright, let him in. And fix... whatever THAT is.

So he steps into the Reality and? Huh. Japan. Neat. He always meant to go, never got around to it. Why is that man an otter?

.......oooohohooo, this place was HELLA fucked up by Ectoplasm, wasn't it? This is multi generational exposure. It's in the air. The water, ground, buildings. But stale to the point of stagnation. That can't be healthy. At least a few people he sees have developed ecto-resistance, thank the Ancients.

Danny discovers there are? "Superheroes"? Or just... heroes, apparently. They sell shampoo lines and athletic gear. Villians are petty criminals and psychopaths. All lumped together. He gets fuckin CHASED by the COPS and half the cities spandex patrol, called a "villian" (you know, like the purse snatchers and the DUDE WHO TRIED TO OPEN FIRE ON A CROWD) for flying around trying to assess the situation. Not speaking Japanese fast enough.

Soooorry! He TRIED to answer your confusing barked demands! This isn't his native language! He's translating through Ghost Speech! He knows it sounds unsettling to the living! It's the best he's GOT, man! (Asshole)

He escapes, obviously, because he's not 14 anymore. And honestly? He could top 200mph or so AT 14. He's only gotten faster. Intangible flight means no wind drag, motherfuckers~! OR need to dodge buildings! HA. Try to follow him through THE GROUND!

A few Blob sucked (to remove the ectoplasm) bits of treasure later? And he leaves a pawn shop with local currency. Thank YOU shady pawn shop! Ask him no questions, he'll tell you not lies. Enjoy Pariah's gold.

He does tourist things. Buy foods he's never tried, wanders around. Sees what's needed. Noticed a lot of people struggle with some aspect of the ecto-mutations brought on by the extreme Limnality. Need accessibility aids.

.....well, he IS a Fenton. His parents would disown him on the SPOT if he left with out at least TRYING to help. So he tracks down one the local ghosts. He'll need a guide or two.

He? VASTLY underestimates how desperate a sea of Obsession Starved Hero and Vigilante Ghosts will act, the INSTANT, they realize not only someone can see them... but it's? Their "Boss"? They aren't sure HOW they know that. But they DO. It's THE Boss. Here to help them! Asking for HELP ™ from THEM!

Yes

YES THEY CAN DO THAT

He gets swarmed. Hundreds of ghosts fighting over each other. Shouting. Turning on each other like rabid animals. All worn down and ragged by their Obssesion starvation. He's forced to shout over them.

And? Holy shit, these are only the ones from THIS CITY, too.

Thank Zone, again, he's no longer 14. That he has friends who are Rulers ™ that taught him HOW to Rule. To delegate. Pretend he TOTALLY knows what he's doing. That every action is on purpose.

It takes less then two hours, with all the experienced Unground Heros help, to make himself a Real Boy and buy a building. Put himself into the correct databases. He officially has licenses for things he's never studied. Is a tax paying citizen. Even belongs to several local clubs.

Over the next few days? He sets up his new... oi! Quickdraw! What're they called again? Right. "Lifestyle Support Company" which? Is a dumb name. But, Fenton Works is Fenton Works. Somehow he always kinda knew he'd be inherenting. It's in a cruddy part of town and the prices are cheap as he can safely get um.

He already had two customers, even though half the building isn't even fully set up. Which? I mean... he gets it. Poor guy. Knives for hands. Sharp ones too. The other guy's Obsession made him emotionally react to colors and like three different ones were ruining his life. So, hand Prosthetics controllable by knives and color filtering wrap around glasses.

Took him a lunch break or two.

Changed THEIR lives.

Suddenly his shop is packed. Schedule screaming for relief. And the ghosts? Getting more tangible by the day. See, his work shop? Ecto proofed. Let's him relax. But it ALSO let's him radiate fresh, clean, Ecto out into the air. And as King? With a direct line to The Zone? He puts out a lot.

There start to become Sightings.

People who SWEAR they saw long dead Heros out of the corner of their eyes. Dead vigilantes. That was who through that bottle. Who tripped that thug at just the right moment. Who unlocked the door. The SWEAR. They aren't crazy!

And... at first? Brushed off. Stress does a lot of crazy thing to a person, ma'am. But? How do you brush off, making eye contact with your dead best friend? Your old mentor on the other roof? That vigilante, who you WATCHED bleed out? Can you brush them off... when a vigilante from the dawn of quirks, punches some two bit villian on live television? Calls the Heros on the scene gloryhounds? Goverment dogs?

Runs from the cops and vanishes into thin air?

When this shit KEEPS HAPPENING?

Is spreading?

Are... are you supposed to arrest them for illegal vigilantism? How? They're THE proto-Heros! You don't want your name tied to that! The HPSC is furious. The goverment is uneasy. There are like... 6 dudes and a lady, openly stalking some kid in UA. Trying to mentor him. He looks moments away from a nervous breakdown.

Us too, kid. Us too.

All? While Danny? Is just sitting in his lil shop. Tinkering. Not HIS problem. Gotta let the ghosts here get it out of their system. Get their Obsession's full. Then it's all aboard the Zone Train. He's just here to make sure no one does anything "Too Crazy".

What's HIS definition of "too crazy"?

Wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy~☆

@hdgnj @lolottes @nerdpoe @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @the-witchhunter @legitimatesatanspawn

[madaqueue]

gn!reader - 18+, MDNI (not quite somno but like…adjacent lmao)

you just look perfect like this - your back arched, ass sitting so tauntingly high in the air, chest rising and falling slowly, steadily, the exact opposite of the beating muscle thrumming so loudly in satoru’s chest he worries it might just burst.

he knew he was late coming home - missions just seem to take longer and longer these days, and a few years ago he surely would’ve just booked a hotel and stayed the night a few hours away.

but now he can’t. not when he has you to come home to.

stubborn, silly you. he told you not to wait up; he knows how you struggle to sleep without him next to you, as though you felt his absence through your dreams. so he knows you haven’t been getting enough rest, but a part of him also knows you, which is why he can’t help the smile that slowly spreads across his face as he quietly closes the front door to your shared home.

and there you are, asleep on your stomach, your phone resting on the couch next to you where it surely fell from your loosened grasp as you slipped into the comfort of unconsciousness.

how did he get so lucky?

the question replays in his mind as he slowly slides off his shoes, softly padding across the room until he’s standing next to you. up close, he can see the way your lips part slightly, a small spot of drool pooling at the corner, the quietest little snores vibrating in your throat.

do you know how perfect you are?

sometimes he wonders - he hopes you know. and if you don’t, he’ll be sure to tell you, everyday until the end of time. until you hear it in your dreams.

and he may be the strongest, but after a week away from you having to prove it, he’s tired of using his strength; right now, he just wants to melt into your softness. he doesn’t want to fight his desires anymore.

his body rests on top of yours easily, blanketing you under his weight. you stir slightly, eyelids fluttering as you adjust to the new sensation before he whispers sweetly into your ear, “it’s okay, it’s just me, love.”

and that seems to calm you right back down, your muscles stilling as a sleepy grin settles across your lips.

so, so perfect.

when you adjust your hips, unknowingly grinding up against him, his breath catches in his throat. how easily you have this effect on him - he was already hard just from seeing you, and now he’s beginning to strain painfully against his uniform pants. he regrets not taking them off, too desperate to feel your warmth, too needy to hold you right this second, but it’s too late now, and he honestly can’t bring himself to get up from where he lays atop you.

long fingers trace along your cheeks, flushed warm in sleep. you let out the softest giggle, more of a sigh than anything, and satoru’s chest swells as his cock twitches. he can’t believe he ever went a week without you, and in this moment, he vows to never do it again (not that he thinks he could - even this brief stint apart had him practically losing his mind, his thoughts wandering to you ever free moment, fucking his fist every night to the thought of you).

when you adjust again, he can’t help let out a low groan at the slight friction, precum beginning to collect in his boxers. he needs you so fucking bad. but he just can’t bring himself to wake you - he knows how tired you must be to have fallen asleep here, after all, it’s the kind thing to do to let you rest, right?

fortunately, just as he internally battles against the needs of his increasingly aching cock, you shift beneath him.

your eyes crack open, catching a flash of white and blue in your blurry vision.

“hi toru,” you whisper, voice heavy with sleep.

“hi, my love,” he hums, pressing a kiss to your temple.

unfortunately, the action only further rubs his length along the curve of your ass, the feeling unmistakeable.

it makes you giggle. “miss me that much, hm?”

surely if your senses were less dulled by exhaustion, you’d see the way he blushes through a cheeky grin. “was it that easy to tell?”

“you’re always easy, baby,” you coo, before resting your eyes once again.

just as he acquiesces to his own defeat, you arch your back up further, slowly circling your hips against him. a smirk tugs across your lips as you steal a glance at him through lidded eyes.

oh, you are so, so perfect.

a/n: literally woke up from a nap thinking abt this ….need to be cuddled rn

[sturnioz]

shy!reader is left alone for the weekend while fratboy!chris is at the fraternity formal — but when the weekend is over... ⌞ part one ⌝

when you found out that this weekend would be spent without chris—a weekend without raging frat parties—you initially thought it might be a refreshing break, envisioning peaceful days for you to relax.

instead, you were extremely unprepared for the loneliness that quickly settled in.

with most of your friends away at the fraternity formal, the apartment felt stark and empty. nick generously spends friday and saturday with you, easily distracting you from the hollow ache in your chest and the gnawing sense of isolation, and you're grateful for his company.

but sunday arrived, suffocating you with eerily silence.

you sit on the couch, the stillness of your apartment pressing in around you, unsettlingly quiet, and you fidget restlessly, trying to push away the spiralling thoughts in your mind as you stare at the flickering tv screen. one of your favourite series is playing, yet it fails to bring the comfort and joy you so desperately crave.

eventually, your hand gravitates towards your phone resting on the arm of the couch, and despite the nagging voice in your head urging you to leave it untouched, curiosity pulls you in. you open the instagram app, and you're instantly bombarded by a flood of posts.

you smile softly, liking the ones posted by kitty and matt, as well as your friend and nate. you even double-tap a few pictures from the other frat boys too. but when chris' post appears, you smile falters.

your thumb hovers over the heart button, and a heavy weight settles in your throat, making it difficult for you to swallow. why didn't he tell you about the formal? why didn't he invite you? did he go with someone else? the answer to that last question becomes painfully clear as you begin to swipe through his posts, and you freeze upon seeing a photo of him standing in front of a mirror, and cherry by his side.

he went with cherry? the last girl he was sleeping with? the realisation hits you like a brutal punch to the gut, and suddenly, you're gasping for breath, the air feeling thick and constricted in your lungs as your heart races with a mix of hurt and confusion.

you know you have no right to feel this way. you are chris are not even dating; you're just sleeping together. it's casual. yet, the pang of betray still cuts deep and you shut your phone off and place it down, your hands trembling slightly as you rub your chest uncomfortably, trying to soothe the ache that has settled there.

you sink deeper into the couch, wishing you could escape the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you — the loneliness, the shock, and the sharp sting of feeling left behind. you wish you could silence the nagging thoughts that tell you you should be okay with this, that you should just let it go.

but the truth is, it hurts more than you want to admit, and you can't shake the feeling of being pushed to the side in a situation that was never supposed to matter this much to you.

when monday rolls in, you find yourself slipping back into your familiar routine — consciously pushing aside the worries and pain from the weekend as you greet your hungover friend as she stumbles into the apartment, giggling softly as she dramatically slumps on top of you, declaring how much she missed you.

fortunately, your professor called in sick, granting you a day off, so you settle in, spending your morning in your room as your friend fills you in on what happened on the weekend. you nod and hum along, smiling at her explaining to you how drunk she had gotten, but your amusement falters when she suddenly brings up chris.

"everyone thought you were going with chris, you know," her says, her voice still croaky as she rubs her tired eyes with a yawn. "so when you didn't show up, everyone just assumed that he'd be going alone, just to get fucked up or whatever."

"but..?" you press quietly, already bracing yourself for the answer you dread but need to hear.

"he went with some sorority girl — cherry, i think her nickname is? 'cos of her red hair and fucking insane double d's. i'm jealous," she huffs beside you, craning her head on her pillow to look at you. "are you okay?"

her words hit you, dragging you back into the painful reality you've tried to forget about and you swallow hard, attempting to compose yourself.

"yeah, m'fine," you reply, but the tremor in your voice gives you away. you force a fragile smile. "promise, i'm good."

even if she doesn't believe a word that came out of your mouth, she doesn't press the issue, which you're grateful for. instead, she shifts the conversation to something completely different.

throughout the day, you remain in your apartment, working on assignments, baking treats with your friend, and crocheting. you even eat popcorn and watch your favourite shared movies.

yet, every so often, your phone buzzes beside you, lighting up with notifications. you take small glances at the screen to read, but each time you see the name, you choose to push the device to the side, ignoring the person on the other end.

© STURNIOZ

[lewisvinga]

my strong girl | lewis hamilton x fem! chronically ill! reader

summary; after an incident during a race, y/n is sent to the hospital and is upset about missing his race after not attending races for months. fortunately for her, lewis is always understanding

fc; various girls on pinterest

word count; 1k

warnings; hospitals, needles, fainting

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi

note; requested ! lewis was so close to a podium i actually was so upset🙁🙁🙁 anyways, i tried to combine a few of the ideas into this without it being superrrr hectic

masterlist !

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“Are you sure you want to come? You don’t need to feel pressured to do so.” Lewis asked in the soft tone that always brought Y/n comfort.

She sighed as he helped her put on her blue Ralph Lauren cardigan. “I’m sure, Lew. I don’t want to miss your home race.” She huffed, watching him grab her white golden gooses.

“Just be careful today. I hate that I can’t be around you the whole time.” Lewis quietly said. He helps her out on her shoes, securely tying the white laces.

“I know, I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Y/n really tried her best to be careful. She only walked a few minutes to grab stuff around Lewis’ driver's room. If she went longer distances, she used her wheelchair and one of the girlfriends of the drivers would happily walk by her side to accompany her.

While Lewis was doing media duties before the race, she hung out with Carmen and Lily. The two girls had lunch but Y/n wasn’t hungry so she decided to not eat. A big mistake for her.

She could only chat with Lewis for a few minutes before he had to get into his car. A couple of good luck kisses later, and his car was being driven out of the garage for the warm-up lap.

Silverstone was always special. It was Lewis’s home race and most importantly, his last home race with Mercedes. He was starting in pole after a fantastic qualifying session. The rainy weather allowed him to push the car to its limits.

Y/n started to feel a bit strange, like something was up but she ignored it for anxiety as the race began. Lewis had a fantastic start to the race and maintained being in first.

Around halfway through the race, Y/n felt well enough to get up from her wheelchair in the usual spot in the back of the garage. Although she usually refrained from walking due to getting tired so easily as a result of her illness, she decided that she felt well enough to at least a couple of steps in.

It was the final five laps and Lewis was still in first with a large gap between him and Charles, his future teammate, who was in second. However, instead of feeling joy about the British driver leading the race and being close to his 104th win, she started to feel like something was off.

Y/n needed to sit back down but her wheelchair was in the farthest corner of the Mercedes garage. Carmen had called out her name in concern but it sounded muffled as she struggled to stand upright. Before she knew it, everything went dark.

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The sound of beeping and the feeling of a familiar pair of fingers rubbing over her hand was what Y/n first noticed as she gained consciousness. The bedsheets crinkled as she slowly moved around, hearing a soft shush as she whined.

“Easy there, my love.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she’s met with Lewis’s deep brown eyes. She immediately noticed he was in a pair of sweats with a trophy sitting by his side.

“Did I miss it?” She asked with a raspy voice. She knew the answer of course. A wave of guilt washed over her. Lewis immediately noticed her furrowed-up eyebrows as she glanced at the iv sticking out of her hand.

“I care more about whether or not you’re okay, my love.” He sighed, gently cupping her cheek to make her look at him. “This win was for you, my strong girl.”

“Not strong enough to last 5 minutes standing up.” Her angry mumble made him let out a chuckle. He leaned over and softly kissed her cheek.

“Doctors said you had low blood sugar. You hit your head, no concussion but they want to keep you here overnight just in case something happens due to your illness.”

Y/n huffed at the mention of staying overnight at the hospital. Sure, she was used to it due to her illness, but she just wanted to be in the comfort of her home in the arms of Lewis. Her furrowed-up eyebrows made him laugh again.

She hadn’t noticed an overnight back resting next to the first-place trophy on the ground. He reached for it and pulled out a sketchbook, a few tubes of paint, and a couple of paintbrushes. Her previous furrowed-up eyebrows immediately relaxed. She relaxed back into the pillows as he opened up the sketchbook to an empty page.

Painting was once a passion of Y/n. She has grown quite a large platform for her work. She adored being able to translate everything in her mind onto a canvas with the stroke of her paintbrush.

Unfortunately due to her illness causing pain in her hand joints, she had to give up the intricate paintings. On occasions when she found herself stuck in the hospital, Lewis would always bring her sketchbook. Although she couldn’t do the once complex strokes and liked, she could do a simplified version.

“Lew,” Her voice was soft and frail. Her hand reached out to grasp his. “You didn’t have to do this. You should be celebrating your win.” She mumbled, slowly reaching over to tuck a braid that had fallen out of his ponytail behind his ear.

“Nonsense,” Lewis looked up at her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I much rather be relaxed and painting here with you than be out with drunk people who only want to be around me for the pictures.”

Y/n sighed as the corner of her lips curled into a smile. He handed her a paintbrush before squeezing a couple of colors on the small plastic palette he had brought. He leaned over, cupping her cheek in pulled her in close. He gently kissed her plump lips and couldn’t help but smile.

“I love you, my strong girl.”

“And I love you, my 104x race winner.”

[apiptosis]

Feel free to use this or add your own flair.

Concept danny meets all of the batfam's civilian identities but in the way of triggering all of their must protect instincts but in the oddest of ways.

Danny had been helping clockwork in the inbetween time and unfortunately had spent a little too long as Phantom. Due to this he had to stay in his human form for atleast 5 years. Cue danny spending his time actually following his hobbies and fixing his school work.

Jazz set out to follow her dream completing her degree in phycology at Arkam. Danny of course followed her, fortunately Gotham had the most advanced aerospace engineering program in the world

Unfortunately while he knew or could easily figure out the work, the sheer amount of projects and work pieces tired him out more than even the ghost attacks did.

The first one he meets is Tim.

Danny has always ran on caffeine but now his morning coffee he orders at the corner of the dance studio gives both the barista and the regulars heart palpitations by just smelling it. This particular coffee shop was the only place willing to make his morning coffee Death's Dew.

His order is for them to make him a 1000ml thermos about seven eighths of the way with ristretto coffee where he adds 3 scoops of caffeine powder and a smidgen of pure ectoplasm mixed in with milk.

Distantly Danny realised that the unholy concoction woke the poor zombie of a man waiting beside him with pure smell alone and the barista was mumbling about smelling colors.

Danny barely remembered to pay for his coffee as he shuffled to his morning class not realizing that he was being stalked by a caffeine addict that begged the last few sips.

A few hours later WE employees watched with mounting horror as their chronically tired boss jitter about like a speedster with Parkinsons.

It took Tim 6 days to fall asleep and the man was never allowed to visit the Dead End coffee shop unsupervised again, despite owning the business.

After everything Tim finally figured out what his family feels like about his coffee addiction and a deep rooted concern formed for the man who's thermos he stole.

[tojipie]

thinking very hard about truck driver toji !

passing mention of sex but no actual nsfw content !

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lugging cargo across the country is no joke, with individual jobs spanning weeks at a time. fortunately, toji somehow ended up with you to keep him busy, his forever passenger princess.

a blurry picture of you two taken on a disposable camera hangs on the dash mirror. the shot is encased in a clear frame and strung up by beaded thread. you’re holding the camera towards the two of you, blowing a kiss towards the lense as toji stands with his arm slung around your shoulders. he’s smiling, a marlboro red pinched between his molars.

toji tries not to smoke in front of you most of the time, opting to pull over at a weigh-in station when his hands start to shake. he’ll kick the same pebble around while you stretch behind the truck, waving at the occasional biker.

it’s rare that men in his profession have anyone to spend the drive with, toji makes the most of it. the older man uses your little stowaway situation as an excuse to take you all across the country, picking up little keychains and stickers for you at every gas station the two of you visit. it’s hard to keep busy when all there is to do is pump gas and fuck, but you’re content with the little dynamic you have.

he’ll pull into a rest stop every time he starts feeling tired, dragging you into the driver’s side seat so he can cradle you in his arms like a little teddy bear. real sleep is done in the truck cab, under a weighted blanket he’d picked up at a strip mall in the mountains.

your “bedroom”, or the truck cab really, is a modest little room behind where the driver’s compartment is. toji tore out the twin sized mattress 2 weeks into your little arrangement, replacing it with a queen sized memory foam one. “a good investment” he called it.

you two rarely if ever sleep in there though. opting for the comfort of a hotel room over the glorified backseat of a sleeping arrangement his truck has. toji can afford it, that much is obvious from how much he spends on room service per week. the man had taught you that a truck driver’s salary was more than enough to keep a girl happy, and with how much you two had been on the road, he was easily reaching the 6-figure mark.

most people would get sick of being forced to spend so much quality time with each other. you never will.

you’ll never get tired of waking up in a different place every morning, spending hours exploring new cities with your favorite boy. you’ll never get tired the way you learn something new about him everyday. a new detail about the family he grew up with, a beauty mark you never noticed on his back, the way his nose scrunches when you say something funny.

you’ll never get tired of the way he stalks up to you after every other rest stop visit, hands clasped behind his back as he prepares to surprise you with whatever trinket he just bought you. and you’ll never regret your decision to be his permanent little sidekick, experiencing every day right alongside him.

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a/n: hii ! i rly rly love this au hehe, i might even like it more than prisoner toji. lmk if this should be a series, and feel free to send in related asks if u want :D

[katsu28]

hi kait!! finally found my way into your inbox, i feel like it’s been a tiiiny bit overdue 😭

i’d love to request writing little notes on post-its and leaving them in random pages of their textbook, so that they will get a little endorphin boost when studying with oscar if that’s okay! (or max, if you wanna give a hand at writing for him)

liyah!!! you're right on time babe, thank you so much for this request! i had so much fun writing this and i'm hoping i did max justice <3

max verstappen x reader, 2k, a dash of google translated dutch lol. request something from here!

“Fuck!” 

Your forehead thunks down against your open textbook for what feels like the millionth time. You feel like you’ve been staring at the same page for hours, yet you still can’t seem to make any sense of what you’re looking at, and it makes you want to scream. 

Now don’t get it wrong, you love learning and you’re fortunate enough to be pursuing an advanced education, but it’s at times like these you wonder if it’s all worth it. There’s so much information to take in and not enough hours in the day to remember it all, and you’re running out of time before you have to take this godforsaken exam that could prevent you from moving to the next level of courses. 

No pressure, or anything, of course. 

“Careful, mijn liefje, you're too smart to be banging your head on the table like that.” Max’s voice rings out from behind you, and you’re too tired to even jump. You hadn’t even heard him let himself into your apartment, let alone sneak up on you. He leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“I don’t feel smart,” You huff, feeling his hands smooth along your shoulders. “I feel like an idiot.” 

“You’re not an idiot.” He replies, very as-a-matter-of-factly. His thumbs press into the knots at the base of your neck like he knows exactly where they are, rubbing slow circles. You don't see it, but he scans your surroundings with a furrowed brow as he massages your stiff muscles. 

The table around you is littered with things—crumpled papers, empty Red Bull cans, an entire stationery store’s worth of pens and highlighters, and most worryingly, your still completely full water bottle. If that sight is any indication, he can safely assume you probably haven’t left your place in this chair for a while. 

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way because I mean it from a place of love, but when was the last time you got some sleep?” 

“What? I dunno, like yesterday—wait, what day is it today?” 

Max presses his lips into a thin line. He’s never been one to worry too much about your studies, because you’re fully capable of keeping things in order yourself, but it might be starting to get out of hand. Now feels like a good time to step in and take matters into his own hands. “If you have to think that hard about it, it’s been too long.” 

Finally you look up at him, and boy is he right. You look utterly exhausted, even as you vehemently shake your head side to side. “I’m not tired, Max. I need to study.” 

“You’ve been studying for ages. What you need is rest.” 

“I can’t. I don’t have time for rest, I need to be ready for my exam,” You argue, already turning back to your textbook. Max crouches down next to you, blanketing your knee with a large, warm palm. His other hand eases the pen out of your grasp, fingers lacing with yours instead. 

“Please take a break, schatje. If not for yourself, do it for me.” 

One look at those pretty, pleading blue eyes of his and you cave, nodding defeatedly. “Maybe a little nap couldn't hurt.” 

Max nods enthusiastically, gently pulling you out of your seat and towards the hallway leading to your bedroom before you have a chance to reconsider. You’re leaning heavily against him, basically already half asleep as he guides you down onto the soft mattress as easily as he can. 

“Wake me up in twenty minutes, please,” You mumble, giving a sluggish tug at his hand. 

“Of course.” 

He won’t, but you don’t need to know that. Max will gladly take any consequences if it means you get at least an hour of rest, hopefully more. Your health and wellbeing is the most important thing to him. 

Your eyes flutter shut on their own accord mere seconds later, soft snores emitting from your mouth even before Max pulls the covers up to your chin.

“Not tired, my ass,” He chuckles under his breath, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before exiting the room as quietly as he can. 

While you get some much needed sleep, Max organizes your study space a little, tossing away the cans and wrappers, plugging in your computer to charge, then moves onto the kitchen and cleans up in there too. 

The living room area is next on his checklist; blankets get folded and put back in their rightful spots, and windows get opened because he won’t lie, the air smells a little stale in here. He figures a complete reset and a neat area might help ease your mind when you wake up. 

As he surveys his tidy job, his eyes land on your open textbook, then the massive stack of multicolored post-it notes next to it. He might not be able to help with the studying part, but there is something he can do about keeping your spirits up while you work on the former. 

He settles himself into your chair, hunching over at the desk as he scribbles notes to you. Encouragements, affirmations about how bright you are and how proud he is of you, dumb jokes to hopefully make you laugh, even his best shot at the little cute doodles you draw for him on the whiteboard of his driver’s room whenever you’re in there waiting for him. Obviously, they’re nowhere near as good—Max has never claimed to be much of an artist—but hopefully they’re enough to give you a little mood boost during your study sessions. 

Being careful to mark your spot, he scatters the sticky notes randomly throughout the crisp pages. 

You rouse from your sleep hours later, barely able to get a word out before Max ushers you to the bathroom to relax in the hot bath he’s drawn for you. Despite your protests, you sink into the nearly scalding water (which is just the way you like it) with an appreciative sigh.

Only once you’re fresh and clean and thoroughly pampered by your boyfriend does he let you come back to where you were when he first found you earlier today. But it looks different. It’s not a mess anymore. Upon glancing around the rest of the place, you can tell that he’s done quite a bit whilst you were passed out. 

“Did you…clean my apartment while I was asleep?” You ask in bewilderment, taking in the neatly organized space with wide eyes. It even smells fresh, lemony and bright and not at all like the despair of an overworked twenty something year old student during exam season. 

“Yep.” Max says simply, popping the ‘p’. 

“Why?” You’re not mad in any way, shape or form, just simply stunned. It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you and Max just shrugs like it’s no big deal. His nonchalance still takes you aback sometimes. 

“Thought it might help. Anyways, you get one hour to study, then you’re taking a break even if I have to drag you away from that book myself,” He warns, pinning you to the spot with a stern glare. “I’ll be in the other room, but I have a timer on, so don’t even try to pull one over on me. One hour. Call out if you need anything.” 

He kisses you firmly on the side of your head and then he’s gone, leaving you alone to hit the books once more. 

Slumping into the chair with a groan, you shake your head not unlike a dog would, flipping open your book again to where you’d left off. Your head feels a little clearer now, a little less foggy now thanks to Max’s efforts, and you’re hoping it’ll make a difference. 

Your gaze is immediately drawn to a bright green sticky note a few pages later, off in the side margins. It isn’t one of your notes though, but rather Max’s tiny handwriting, an odd mixture of lower and uppercase letters spelling out a message. 

You’re doing an amazing job. Keep pushing!

Before you know it, you’ve flipped through the entire book in your search of more notes from Max, your grin only growing bigger and bigger with each one you find. 

Why don’t dinosaurs talk? Because they’re dead. 

I’m proud of you for making it this far. You’re so smart. 

What are Sassy and Jimmy’s favorite day of the week? Cat-urday. 

If you find this one, we’ll go to Bora Bora during summer break. 

That last one is tucked in the back cover, signed and dated by him. You plan to keep it as undeniable proof when the time comes, though you suspect he won’t try to deny it. He’d be happy to whisk you off to any place you wanted if you asked. 

Every single one of his notes makes you grin like an idiot, but his attempts at drawing his cats are your favorite ones of all. It takes you a few moments to understand what exactly you’re looking at, but when you squint at what could be the outline of Sassy’s ears, it makes you actually laugh out loud. 

Warmth spreads from your head to the tips of your toes at the thought of Max taking the time to do all this for you, even though he really didn’t have to. When you think about it, he’s always been this way—showing that he cares through his actions. Taking care of his loved ones without having to say a word. It’s one of the many things you love about him.

Like always, Max is true to his word. One hour later on the dot, he marches back in with gusto. 

“Alright, break time! Let’s go get some food. Lando keeps waffling on about some Greek place that’s apparently super popular and the best he’s ever had, if you don’t mind—” He stops mid sentence and mid stride at the sight of you staring back at him. You’re not smiling, but you also don’t look angry. It’s actually a little unsettling, really. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

You barrel into Max with enough force to make him stumble backwards a few steps, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug. He lets out a soft noise of surprise at having to catch you all of a sudden, one that is quickly stifled because your lips are on his now, and you’re kissing him the same way you do when he comes home after a triple header and you haven’t seen him in weeks. 

The kiss is short, but teeming with emotion. Love, appreciation, gratitude—you kiss Max with everything you’ve got, and when you pull away he looks pleasantly confused. 

“What was that for, schatje?” He chuckles, smoothing a hand up and down your back. You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Everything.” You mumble, pressing your face into the softness of his jumper. Another laugh rumbles through him, fonder this time. 

“Everything.” He repeats. You nod against his chest, and he knows what you’re trying to say, even if you’re not saying it. He sighs contentedly, nestling his chin over the top of your head. 

You’d stay like this forever if you could, if neither of you had things to do and places to be. Just you and your Max, who knows you so well you don’t even have to tell him what you need. And what you need right now is food. 

Max rocks you side to side, voice light as he ponders the options, because he just knows what you’re thinking already. “If we hurry, we could probably still get a table before the Greek place closes. Or maybe not, but I’ll pay them extra to stay open for us.” 

“I like the way you think, Maxie.” You beam, kissing him again. A little too quickly for his liking, but he doesn’t mind. As long as you’re happy, he’s happy.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[sundaycentric]

ᵋᵌ the little things 𓈒　　 ◟ 　sunday x reader　 ♡

content — little things and details you notice about him. ✦ no tws, sfw. not proofread, may be ooc. im really tired so i may have burnt this one guys

You see privy to many sides of Sunday, your beloved, that others would not even have the fortune to dream of seeing. You notice the tiny details Sunday covers up in public, the minuscule imperfections in his outwardly 'perfect' character. Had you been anyone else, he'd be a bit irritated. But you are his lover, one of the only ones allowed to see him for him.

I. His stares.

If you look at the perfect moment, you may be able to see your lover taking sneaking glances at you. These stares are for several reasons. Sunday always tells you that it's simply because of how stunning you look: he cannot help but sneak a peak at your beauty. And while that is true, he also looks over to ensure you're okay. If anyone is bothering you, he will know right away. It soothes his poor heart to know everything at all times, which extends to your well-being, too.

Confronting him about this will lead to him breaking eye contact for a moment—a rare site. He is embarrassed at being easily caught but will try to cover his awkward look with his wings. Sunday tells you he'll try not to stare as much, but he only tries for a few seconds. It isn't long until he is looking over at you once again.

II. His wings.

If you cannot read Sunday's face or the rest of his body language, his wings can be a dead giveaway to what is feeling. After being with him—close to him—you know what to look for. You can see the tiny flaps his wings do when you approach him, how they droop when you have to leave, and how they flare up whenever someone is a bit too nice to you.

Sunday is embarrassed about his wings' expressiveness. He feels a bit exposed to how you can read him easier and easier by the day, but he also knows how much you like his wings. He doesn't miss the small smile that forms when you see his wings move unconsciously, and that beautiful sight soothes much of his embarrassment.

III. His speech.

Sunday has a lot to say, but rarely does he ever speak all his mind. It's only with his loved ones that you can see how much he rambles when he gets going. He tries his best to listen to you as much as possible, but sometimes, he can't resist letting a comment or two slip. Then, those comments snowball into a full-on discussion led by him. This is only with some topics, though. Usually, either things he is passionate about or things that have gotten him worked up.

And he knows a lot of words. Sometimes, you have no clue what is saying when he's talking. Yet, you don't interrupt him to tell him that, since he seems so invested. It's cute to see how dedicated he can get.

IV. His touch.

Sunday's touches are fleeting and gentle. It feels almost sacred. He doesn't touch anyone nearly as much as he touches you. In public, PDA is kept to a minimum. Sunday will hold your hand occasionally and brush your cheek with a fond gaze, but he won't do much more than that. As for in private, Sunday is more open. While he rarely initiates them himself, he will reciprocate hugs and kisses. Sunday will usually hold onto you in some way if he can come sleep in the same bed as you.

You are the only person he takes his gloves off for. The only thing he will ever take them off for. In the privacy of your shared home, Sunday will shed his gloves and let his fingers trace over your skin. You can see how he relaxes at your physical affection, how his walls seem to crumble with every fleeting touch.

V. His love.

Most importantly, you can see how he loves you.

[pearlywritings]

A slip of the tongue

synopsis: as smart as Alhaitham is, sometimes he blurts out things without thinking twice. It's good, however, that your husband knows when an apology is due, even though it doesn't mean you (and your friend) won't come up with something to pay him back with~

pairing and characters: Alhaitham x fem!reader

tw: established relationship (marriage), little hurt/instant comfort, a bit suggestive, Kaveh is lowkey couple's marriage counselor

word count: 3.7k+ words

a/n: wow, finally releasing this one out of the basement!

Here is the second part btw

Your cheek starts hurting from how long the knuckles of your fist have been digging into it. Fingertips drum on your knee, as legs stay crossed and stare fixed on the figure before you, sitting on the chair across the table and not taking the eyes off of the book pages. The most infuriating part of it? The figure is talking.

"...and so you should be prepared for Rajkumar's endless questions. He might not have any relation to Haravatat or languages at all, but he has a bone to pick with me, so being my wife puts you in a position to attack. And you know how annoying it is to converse with an idiot."

Yeah, probably as much as hearing what you are already aware of. You love your husband, you truly do, but sometimes the urge to smack the back of his head and tell him to shut up is too tempting.

All you said was that you were a little nervous and mentioned that tomorrow is indeed one of the most important days for you. After all, you are going to defend your second thesis, one you spent years to complete and pass all sorts of verification, reviews and censorship. Having the Scribe as your husband had both its perks and drawbacks in the process - he could easily push your work forward to the necessary people in charge of all the mentioned above stages of approbation, but then the fact he was your spouse put a label on you for those who were aware, and it said “Needs to be examined more thoroughly”. Though come to think of it, it’s pretty illogical.

Fortunately you never had troubles with that - after all your brain was in place, and both topics of your first and now current papers were innovative. Moreso, many of your Haravatat professors agree on your academic success and some of them expressed their hope to see you in the role of their colleague in the future.

But it’s for the future. First you need to become the Dastur, and for that you need to defend your thesis in the present. You have absolutely everything ready, no one knows your topic better than you are (maybe only Alhaitham can come close, since he read and reread it multiple times, helping with editing and providing impartial perspective), and years at the Akademyia taught you how to withstand the piercing eyes and prickling words of the jury. You will be fine.

Or you thought so, before just one phrase of yours started this whole exchange that is now happening in your kitchen.

“...and remember the part in the third chapter we discussed with you. This will be the one they’ll claw at, since it’s a turning point in a whole theory and I heard some of them already criticizing it,” the male hums, turning another page, eyes scanning the words written on a yellowed from time piece of paper. This seems the last comment of his, as he falls silent, reaching for the cup of coffee you’ve made him - in the process of which you were short-sighted to voice your concern.

When a minute passes and you do not answer anyhow to any of the valuable advice he’s just given you, Alhaitham lowers his book and stares at you. You keep drumming your fingers on your knee, eyes boring into him and almost unblinking, and it’s not hard for such an observant man to notice a barely-veiled displeasure in your tired eyes and a scowl.

"You know you could've just said you are worried about tomorrow too, and leave it at that?"

Alhaitham blinks, hand frozen in the middle of lowering the mug back on the table. He is holding your gaze and you can practically see the thoughts running through his mind, he is clearly contemplating how to answer your bold statement.

“Why would I be worried?” He finally answers with a question on your own, putting the mug on the flat surface. “It’s just a thesis defense, and if you get rid of your nervousness you’ll see that you already have the Dastur title in your pocket. Tomorrow is just a formality for you.”

“So you are not coming to watch me tomorrow?” Your scowl and frown deepens, fingers stopping abusing your knee and curling in a fist instead. Your husband sighs, marking the page with a bookmark you’ve made for him and closing the volume he’s been on for the past week. Then his captivating eyes are back on you.

“Scribe isn’t required to attend. Besides-”

“Yeah, yeah, you know my work enough to not hear anything new in my presentation,” you interrupt him and he can clearly hear rising anger in your voice that wasn’t there before. It actually manages to shut him up. “As my husband, as my support, are you going to come?”

The man feels a twinge of guilt in his heart. He always prided himself of his intelligence and attentiveness, yet just now he failed to assume what exactly you expected of his presence. Of course he’d want to give you a peace of mind by being there, but it seems he is too used to uttering the same phrase every single time someone asks him to come, that it was out faster than he had a moment to think it over properly.

He sees a bit too late how your face drops when he doesn’t give you an answer immediately - it looks like his pause appeared to be hesitance to you. He slightly panics when you lower your gaze and move to uncross your legs to stand up, having an almost iron grip on the back of the chair.

“Wait- Dear, I will come,” at that your eyes flicker at him, with doubt on display in your beautiful orbs. “I promise, I’ll be there.”

“I thought you didn’t like to be around idiots the whole day,” you huff, crossing your arms, reminding him of how unflattering his words towards some of his colleagues were. You do not mean to act childish, but tomorrow is really important to you, and obviously you’d want to have your husband be there to share it with you.

Alhaitham puts the book aside and stands up as well, rounding the table and coming closer to you. His fingers deftly touch your elbow, and you will yourself not to jerk it, some annoyance still bubbling in your system.

“That is correct. However, you are not one of them,” he murmurs, caressing your arm. You huff again, but this time your posture is more relaxed. “Besides, all you need is to be confident, and if my presence can assure you that, then I’ll be more than happy to be there for you.”

You give him a long stare. Your drilling eyes to his bewitching ones, searching for the truth in the greenish depths, while he stands still, waiting patiently, expecting your verdict silently. It’s as your frown softens, he knows you’ve found what you’ve been looking for in this kind of staring contest.

“Oh Archons, Alhaitham…” You shake your head with a small smile and the man feels relief washing over him. You are no longer mad at him. At least, it seems so. That is definitely good. “We’ve been married for years and it still surprises me how you can be a jerk - affectionately - one moment, and a completely sweet guy another.”

“Maybe just as quick you are switching from fuming to forgiving,” his palms are warm as they slide up your arms, featherly resting on your shoulders. Your smile widens a little and you meet him in the middle when he leans to press his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, yeah… But to your credit you were quick to fix your attitude, and as long as it’s sincere, I am grateful.”

“It is sincere,” he says with emphasis. “You know I am not the one to change my mind lightly.

Or rather realizing when an apology is due.

You hum, content with his answer. Yet, a mischievous glint finds its place in your eyes.

“Even though you are forgiven, I am still complaining to Kaveh about the mean and heartless husband of mine.”

“Of course you are,” he rolls his eyes, but you know it’s playful. He knows it too, and the shift in the mood is apparent, and he is thankful for its course to the positive destination. “I guess it’s deserved.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t be glaring at you murderously. Much.”

Alhaitham only sighs at your giggles. He could care less of what the blond architect would say about him, so he’ll survive some annoyed buzzing from the senior, and if the little exchange which is about to occur makes you happy - he doesn’t mind. Plus it will be good for you to take your mind off of tomorrow.

“I’ll trust you on that,” he finally says, slowly leaning back. You smile, patting the back of his hand still resting on your shoulder in reassurance. With a promise to collect you from your ‘girlish talk’ (you swat his shoulder at that) in a couple of hours, your husband helps you to make a new pot of tea. It’s quite ironic that this one is gonna be emptied while he’s the main focus of the conversation.

Minutes later, when you leave the kitchen with a tray, Alhaitham can faintly hear the knocks on the other end of the house, and the door opening not a minute later, the voice of the man you two have been housing for months coming clear and concerned. Kaveh remained your friend even when he and Alhaitham got in a horrible fight over their beliefs and you were partially the reason why the Haravatat graduate was convinced to let the blonde stay. Though loud, flamboyant and snarky, there is some perks of having him around - even if the architect always complains how he didn’t sign up to be a marriage counselor, he’s never let you or your husband be in a conflict for long (fortunately it happened really rarely), being your shoulder to tear up on or begrudgingly becoming an ear to be talked of by the other man and the foot that would kick Alhaitham into action or the hand that would gently nudge you in the right direction.

Or, just like tonight, simply be ‘your girl’ to chat with.

Alhaitham, as promised, lets you be for a couple of hours, meanwhile busying himself with his book. To outsiders this scene may appear weird and paint the Scribe in an awful light as a husband - but it is just like that with this man. And the strange dynamic the three of you have while staying under one roof: a wife, a husband and their… loquacious canary-like-therapist.

Only when it’s close to the time you usually go to sleep, does he also end up before the door of Kaveh’s temporary room, and firmly knocks three times.

“What?” Unsurprisingly it's the blonde’s voice, and by the tone of it he is pissed. The ash-haired male chooses to ignore him.

“Darling, let’s go to bed,” he calls for you softly. 

Alhaitham hears shuffling and muffled curses the architect surely prepared for him and some short, but incomprehensible conversation happening between you two. Not a moment later though, the door opens revealing your face, and your husband can’t help but feel extra weight lifted off his shoulders. No line reappeared between your eyebrows, no pout and no distress is written on your face. Quite the contrary, when your eyes meet, you give him the same warm smile you graced him with back in the kitchen.

“Sure, let’s go. It’s quite late already and we need to wake up early tomorrow,” you hum, exiting the room. Through the gap Alhaitham spots Kaveh sitting over some blueprints with two mugs on the table and a chair placed on the opposite side of the fine piece of furniture. When the architect lifts his eyes to glare at him, the Scribe slams the door closed. To your bedroom you returned with arms linked.

The silence of your shared space is comforting and is only disturbed by your light steps and rustle of changed clothes. The Scribe glances at you every two minutes, still a tiny bit concerned about that animatic exchange you had back in the kitchen.

“You know I will come, right?” The man suddenly asks you, as you’re fluffing the pillows. Your eyes slightly widen for a brief moment, so quickly that he almost misses it, but then they soften again as you chuckle.

“Yes, I know, dear. Sorry I reacted the way I did initially. It seems I really was pent up after all.”

“I could tell. You looked like you could bite my head o- ow!” He gasps when you throw your pillow into his face, which he catches at the last second.

“Oh, shut it, or I might get mad again,” but there is no anger in your eyes, only hardly veiled mischief. He drops your weapon of choice back onto bed and raises his hands in defense.

“Okay, okay, point taken. Any way I can make it up to you?”

At that your eyes strangely glint, and the scholar can’t place his finger on what exactly feels off about it. But it does.

“Actually you can. I’d like you to wake me up when you do, and let me use the shower first.”

And that’s it? Well, odd, but not disturbingly odd. Surely you wouldn’t go as far as to play some pranks on him by mixing something in his shampoo - you are way too intelligent for that. Also not one for revenge. 

“Of course. I will wake you when I do so myself, and let you use the bathroom first.”

Even if the mornings are not Alhaitham’s forte, he still opens his eyes disgustingly early, so sleeping for a bit more while you are at your morning routine sounds nice. Not as nice as doing it with you in his arms, but still quite nice.

“Thank you, dear. Now, if you are going to read-”

“Not tonight. You need sleep,” to that you smile warmly, crawling under the blankets, which he is quick to follow. You do not deny his embrace, and willingly scoot closer, extending an arm to put around his waist, as he does the same. Nor you turn away from a kiss he places on your forehead, pecking his chin in response.

“Good night, Alhaitham.”

“Good night, Y/n.”

True to his word, your husband pulls you out of the dreamland just moments later after exiting it himself. Cerulean eyes drink in your sleepy face contorting in displeasure, arms reaching over your head, and body arching in a morning stretch. He can’t help himself, leaning close and pressing a kiss just above the hem of your chemise, relishing the feeling of your heart thumping against his lips. You yawn, reaching a hand into his hair, but your breath hitches, when his mouth is suddenly on your throat, peppering it with soft pecks.

“Mmm… If you are trying to make up for yesterday you are a bit late,” your groggy voice is so adorable to the man. With you he tends to forget how to rationalize things. Yesterday was one of the times when his ‘Alhaitham for anyone else but his wife’ slipped into his interaction with you, the behavior he’s been trying for years to suppress when it comes to you. Now he knows he should’ve acted differently, and regrets his unique way of trying to give you reassurance. If only he-

“Are you overthinking again?” 

Your question makes him emerge back to reality. Eyes meet, and his heart skips a beat when you smile at him. Archons, you are beautiful.

“You know I am joking? Yesterday was yesterday, and you are already making it up to me, right?”

Words can’t describe how much he loves you, and at this moment he feels like he’ll never be able to express it fully.

“Right. Shower is all yours. Also,” he leans in again, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “good morning.”

Your smile gets wider and you wrap your arms around his frame to kiss his cheek.

“Morning, Haitham.”

With you gone to the shower, the man buries himself in your pillow, inhaling the lingering scent. Sometimes he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. Your husband is intelligent enough to evaluate his own deeds and behavior, so he knows he is far from perfect to be someone’s partner. Yet, here you are, loving and accepting all his flaws - not without some complaint, but you are trying.

He might come off as arrogant to some people, but in arguments with you, he can tell when it’s his fault and not blame you for giving him a cold shoulder and requesting some space. He might look like he doesn’t care, but he cares for you, for your well-being, for your likes and dislikes, for your opinion, carefully storing all this valuable information in his brain, to show how much you mean to him. He is aware he has a long road ahead of him to get rid of all of his annoying conversing habits, but he is willing to keep trying for you. He seems to not show gratitude to anyone, but he is so grateful that you remain by his side, going as far as telling him you are proud to be his wife.

He wants you to know that it’s mutual.

That being said, Alhaitham is a smart man, but when he himself exits the bathroom after his shower time, his brain is reduced to just one thought.

You are absolutely gorgeous.

His gaze is chained to your pretty fingers, rolling the long, dark green stocking up your left leg. His throat bobs, when the elastic hem of it snaps against your skin, squeezing the flesh of your thigh a little. Then you take the second one, elegantly lifting the other leg and repeating the taunting process, but this time he is here to watch it from the beginning to the very end.

You happily hum, observing your work, and, satisfied, get on your feet, adjusting the band of your panties a little. Archons, you are wearing a matching set of the richest green shade. Lace leaves little to imagination, as his eyes flicker up to your chest, noting the pretty, natural swell of it and the outline of your nipples, and then down, as you turn around and bend to grab the shirt from the bed, demonstrating to him your ass and thighs.

His hand almost reaches out to touch you, to get a hold of the round globe, to sink his lithe fingers in your flesh. After all, your husband is not above earthly pleasures.

But your voice snaps him out of it.

"My love, if you keep standing like this in the middle of the room with just a towel on and no intention to dress, you might be late for breakfast," you chide him not even turning around and throw on the shirt, hiding the bra and some of the lower half, yet still leaving a bit of an appetizing view for an eye.

Alhaitham wills himself to tear the almost burning gaze away from you and redirect it to his own clothes, already prepared and neatly hanging on a chair. You mischievously smile as he takes a step to move past your figure. He's kept alarmingly silent and you are dying to know what reaction he has for your little plan. 

The man has just a second to react when you abruptly turn around and stumble into him. Big palms instantly grab your hips to steady you against his chest, and the heart quickens at the feeling of soft lace under his fingertips, peeking from beneath the hem of the shirt he accidentally crumpled in the process. Your hands on his chest are so warm, put out just in time to catch yourself, and Alhaitham finds himself thinking of how would've it felt if your chests collided - maybe the thin material of the only layer of clothes you have on paired with some flimsy bra would not make any difference from direct skin to skin contact?

"Ah, sorry, 'haithy," you sheepishly smile up at him, eyes soft and staring innocently, "Are you alright? I haven't heard you speak ever since you left for the shower…"

Archons, please, don't let his voice betray him.

"I'm," he quickly clears his throat, "alright. Was just about to start dressing."

You hum, pushing onto his pectorals to move away and continue with your own - though slightly changed - routine, but strong fingers flex, keeping you in place by the sheer hold on your hips. You look at him inquiringly, ignoring how the very tips of his thumbs just barely slip under the thin material of your panties to caress your hip bones. It's almost an absentminded action.

"What's with this lingerie?" He finally drops the question swirling on his tongue ever since he first laid his eyes on the tantalizing sight. It's hard to hold back a smirk - you admit you were a bit doubtful if it'd actually grab your husband's attention. Who knew the stoic man was into it…

"Oh, this?" Nonchalantly you tug on the collar of your shirt and Alhaitham sharply inhales upon catching a glimpse of your barely covered breast again. "Do not worry, habibi, it is not to seduce you," he is not that sure about it. 

Taking his hands in yours, you pry them off of your body and put them back to his sides, gracing his waist just above the towel with your touch. He shivers.

"I know it's different from what I usually wear, especially to work," you admit, turning around again, to grab the robes of the Akademyia's scholar. "But I really-really loved this one I purchased a couple of weeks ago on that outing with the girls. I feel so beautiful in it," fuck, you are. "And today is a special day. Want to have some confidence, you know?"

And as the rest of your body disappears under the long article of clothing, Alhaitham is finally aware of what this whole thing is about.

It's going to be an agonizingly endless day, where the only thing he can do is watch.

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream as the type of boyfriend to...

Mark Lee ; ride scary rides for you even though he doesn't like it. 

Mark's not a huge fan of scary ride while you're an adrenaline junkie. When you two decided to have an amusement park date, Mark knows that he is bound to ride those scary rides like viking, roller coaster, and space shuttle. You told him that it's okay if you two wouldn't ride those and just enjoy the rides that he can tolerate but Mark wants you to enjoy the date! (it's a waste of money too lol) that's why even if he can feel his soul leaving out his body, he'll be happy to join you in the fun, if it'll make you happy!

Huang Renjun ; carries all your necessities in his bag. 

In the relationship, Renjun's the big bag and you're the small purse. You always justify that all you need is your phone, wallet, and a small tinted balm. BUT Renjun knows that's not the case. So he brings all the necessities that you needed. It started raining? He has an umbrella. Oh, you feel so hot? He has a mini fan. You need a tissue? Yeah, he has a huge roll in his bag. His bag is like Doraemon's pouch, and although it's kinda heavy, he doesn't mind as long as he has everything that you need. <3

Lee Jeno ; brings you home whenever your energy is low during a gathering. 

"Do you want to go home?" is the first thing Jeno will say to you. Both being introverts, Jeno understands whenever your social battery deflates a few hours later in a gathering. While he can hold it further than you, Jeno wants to make sure that he's not the only one who's having fun. SO if he sees you tired, quiet, and on your phone, he knows that your energy is low. Even if it means cutting the gathering short, Jeno is fine with it. What matters is you. He'll bring you home even if you insist you're fine, but in the end, you'll thank your lover for bringing you home early.

Lee Donghyuck ; gives you space whenever you're having a hard time.

Haechan knows when you're in a bad mood. He knows it by the way you enter the apartment without greeting him, the way you removed your shoes aggressively, and going straight to your room and slamming the door loudly. Haechan doesn't get mad whenever you ignore him because he knows that your emotion is just all over your head and you don't want to vent your anger to him. That's why he'll give you space for you to cool down. Letting you inside your room or just giving you a quiet assurance that he's there. Once you're all calm down, you'll go to him and apologize for your behavior, but Haechan only hushes you with a hug and ask you what's wrong. 

Na Jaemin ; brings his jacket so that you won't get cold. 

Jaemin's the warm person while you're the colder one. So the tendency is that you get cold easily! Just even the cold temperature of the night can give you shivers. That's why Jaemin always make sure that he has his jacket with him. Sometimes he wears it even though he's sweating under his shirt but most of the time, he just carries it by his hands. You probably had a collection of Jaemin's sweater and jacket in your closet because of the many times you brought it home but always forgetting to give it back to him. (He's okay with it fortunately.)

Zhong Chenle ; lets you do the silliest thing in public.

Chenle always puts a cool image in public. So casual with the shades and hands in his jeans pocket while you're just as unhinge as you can be. You tend to let your intrusive thoughts win that's why you always do the silliest things in public. Like doing a tiktok trend in public, although Chenle isn't the type to do it publicly, he'll be willing because you want to! Plus it's a couple tiktok trend so it's also a matter of him to flex you and your relationship with him! 

Park Jisung ; try to learn new things for you. 

Dates with Jisung is always composed of trying new things. That's how he shows his love for you! You wanted to try clay pottery? Jisung will find an affordable pottery session so that you two can try. You wanted to bake a cake? He doesn't know how but he's willing to research a recipe just so you can try it! He loves it too because he learns new things and hobbies that he may want to indulge furthermore. Plus, you two always rate the new things you two do and how doable it was. 

[niiennieshi]

Neuvillette x Reader

The Chief Justice's Wife <3

★masterlist★

-> You offer to give your husband a relaxing massage. However, it turns you on but unfortunately, since you didn't want to bother Neuvillette during his work, you slipped away. That's when you make an annoying encounter, one that Neuvillette will deal with for you, as the caring and protective husband he is <3

No warnings, pure fluff but some sexual stuff implied at the end.

❤︎ Enjoy your reading! ❤︎

Sitting right on the lap of the Chief of Justice while he was working in the middle of the day in his office, you soon started to get bored. Well, bored to death, to be more precise. To tell the truth, the only thing he did --besides working-- was giving you soft kisses on your neck from time to time and caressing your waist thoroughly with his calloused and warm hand. Of course, that wasn't to displease you but it's not like it kept you entertained. And as you felt what was like his twentieth kiss, you wondered if you could do something for your lover. After all, you may be bored but at least you weren't working like Neuvillette. And if doing something for him meant that you wouldn't be bored anymore and please your husband, there wasn't any reason you wouldn't do it.

Since early this morning, your husband has been analysing multiple judiciary cases you wouldn't know a thing about. Can you imagine how tired he must be?

Fortunately, he's lucky to have such a caring wife as you are.

You got up from his lap, making him finally lift his eyes from all the papers displayed on his desk, going right behind him. "Would Monsieur Neuvillette let his dear wife give him a massage on those broad but oh so sore shoulders of his?" You suggested, placing your delicate hands on the place you promised to massage, giving his cheek a sweet kiss. "How could I say no to such a nice service offered by my wife herself?" He replied, instantly humming when he felt your soft hands, he much adored, working magic on his sore shoulders of a judge. Giggling a little, you kept massaging him, enjoying the feeling of his muscles against your more fragile hands.

Would it be humiliating if he knew that the more you felt his muscles and the more you started to get just a tiny bit aroused? There's no need to tell him though... I mean, touching a man's muscles, Neuvillette's muscles at that, was somehow enough to arouse you. Seeing his broad back and large shoulders makes you feel so vulnerable and tiny. And even more when he'd stand in front or behind you. You feel like he could do whatever he wants to you, that you just couldn't resist, physically speaking. First of all, he's a man. Compared to women, they just have so much more strength that it's terrifying. And it's not like Neuvillette is skinny or just toned, he's a well built and strong man. Fortunately, this fact does not scare you. On the contrary, with Neuvillette, you feel so safe thanks to his huge body, loving above all how he manhandles you so easily thanks to all the strength he's got.

Like those times in bed where he just throws you on the bed without any difficulty and- "Dear? Are you okay?" Neuvillette snaps you out of your lewd reverie, taking a hand of yours in his. "Oh hum, yes, why?" You ask, a little confused. "You stopped massaging me and I called your name but you didn't answer me. Is everything truly alright?" Oh, if only he knew. Did you lose yourself that much in your thoughts for you to not hear him call you until he took your hand? "Don't worry, hum... I was just lost in my thoughts..." You wanted to pick up where you left off, except, your lover is now standing in front of your little figure, his worried pupils looking down at yours whilst a strong hand comes rest en your cheek. "Darling, are you being honest with me? You should know that I know you by heart, my love." Seeing that look of his makes you feel a little guilty for interrupting him, when you were actually just fantasizing about his muscles and strength. But it's not like you were going to tell him, what would you look like? Well, you'd look exactly like a starving woman for her man. That wouldn't displease Neuvillette at all, but you fear that it could (it would) distract him from his work, meaning that he would end up leaving from work later than usual. Why? Well, he'd slam you straight on his desk and take good care of making your fantasies come true. "I know but really, there is nothing to worry about." You give him a sweet and reassuring smile. "How about I get you some coffee?" Neuvillette doesn't have the time to say a thing that you give him a soft quick kiss on your tiptoes and leave his office to go fetch him a drink.

That's for the best. At least, with Neuvillette not being around you anymore you don't take the risk to jump on him or bother him, thus distracting him from his duty as the Chief of Justice. It's a relief that you already calmed down and killed your appetite for you husband, now that there are a lot of people around you such as guards, other employees, janitors and so on. It isn't only your lover and you anymore.

Even though it's not the first time you visit Neuvillette here, since he was always by your side, you didn't really bother to remember what was where as he already did that for you. When you're in his company, all your attention goes to him, trusting your man with the rest, knowing he'd always be there for you. However, this time you are all alone and can't really remember where the cafeteria is. Naturally, you decide to ask someone who works here. That's where you spot a young man not that far from you. Compared to others, he didn't seem busy or whatever since he was just being on his phone, perhaps texting someone. That's great because otherwise you'd feel bad to disturb someone for such a trivial thing when you're not even actually supposed to be here. Gently tapping on his shoulder from with your finger, he first only turns his head with a confused look, but as he lowers his gaze on your figure, a smile draws itself on his face and he turns around completely. "Excuse me, I'm looking for the cafeteria, do you know where it is?" You asked gently with a polite smile. "Oh, sure, Iet me show you." He replied. "Oh you don't have to, you can just tell me the direction, I wouldn't bother you for that." You said gently. "Don't worry beautiful, I wasn't that busy, and I can always make some time for girls like you." The young man ended his sentence by a seductive wink. "Oh hum... Well, if you insist, thank you." You replied again with a polite smile, not giving too much thought to his flirting. Neuvillette surely wouldn't like that, but it's just a matter of a few minutes. Plus, you wouldn't want to bother someone who's really busy.

Walking side by side, you stay at a correct distance between strangers. However, it seems like someone else can't, or doesn' want to actually respect that. "By the way, what's your name, beautiful?" He asked, reducing the distance between the both of you little by little. As if you wouldn't notice. "I'm (y/n), so I'd appreciate if you could stop calling me beautiful, please." With an awkward smile, you distance yourself a bit more. But something you didn't expect, is his very hand coming rest on your shoulder and drag you closer to him. "Oh come on, I can assure you, you really are beautiful." His chuckle disgusted you. He's one of those men who don't respect boundaries or allow themselves to touch you. Nothing like your man, Neuvillette.

Immediately removing his hand, you contest. "That's not what I meant. I'm taken, so please stop with your flirting." When you lift your gaze, you notice that you've arrived at the cafeteria. "And where's the problem? Aren't we supposed to have fun in this life?" Oh right, he's still here. "You can have some fun with someone else, not me. Anyways, thank you, I should remember the way back." Turning around, he's finally gone from your sight. And what's even better than a cafeteria with no queue? "I'd like a black coffee without sugar, please." You request.

"How old are you to drink that, pretty?" The voice coming from your right, you're met with the man you thought you had left behind right when you turn your head. "I thought I told you to quit calling me that." Argh, he's persistent. "And I did. I called you pretty this time, not beautiful." Aaaand he laughs as if that was actually funny. "Anyway, don't you have some work to go back to? I've already thanked you for showing me the cafeteria." You say before you go sit on an empty chair at a table. "You could thank me by allowing me to keep you company, doesn't that sound nice? How come such a pretty lady like you is alone though?" He says, dragging a chair from another table to place it in front of your table, sitting on it. "I am not, my husband works here." You say, while texting your husband that you'll be back soon. "Oh wow, you're married at that? 'Makes things even more interesting~"

You sigh, you're just tired now. Thankfully, your phone almost immediately buzzes, distracting you from the annoying man in front of you. A smile spreads your cheeks sweetly when you read his text. "Thank you, but come back to me quick, my darling." Sigh, nothing like that guy. However, someone had to ruin that. "Is he that great in bed, really?" You sigh again, glaring at him. "More than you could ever be, if you ever are, that is." Putting your phone back in your purse, you stand up when you notice that your order is now ready.

"Ouch, that's mean, my lady!" For the nth time, you sigh. "'Don't care." You simply answer, dropping formalities. "Do you really plan to follow me everywhere? Now that really is bothering me, just leave me alone." You add, your steps quickening. Unfortunately, he catches up to you. "How could I leave such a gracious flower as you? 'Can't leave before I'm given a chance." You take your phone out to text Neuvillette again. "I already told you I'm married to someone. Just leave me alone now." You repeat yourself, without success.

Suddenly, you see yourself being caged between a wall and him, a few steps away from Neuvillette's office. "H-hey! What are you doin-" He doesn't let you finish, taking your chin in between his fingers. "That man really is lucky to have a girl like you, I'm jealous." You wanted to push him away, but since you have your lover's coffee in hand, you had to be cautious if you didn't want to spill it everywhere. "Back off!" You say as you try tu push him away with one hand only.

But like I said, men are just stronger. This man's strength is scary, but your man's is comforting. That's where all the difference lies.

"Calm down a little, beauty, I just want a taste." Any abrupt move could spill the coffe, and besides, you didn't want to make a scene or whatever by pouring it everywhere. (This is just a fiction but in real life, just make a scene ladies, pour the coffe on his face and beat that man's ass first before worrying about the rest. Stay safe<3) He slowly starts to lean in for a kiss. And that's it, you scream. "Neuvilleette!!" The man is surprised when he hears the name you call out. "W-wait what? That Neuvillette??" He looks at you with wide eyes, slowly starting to realize who's wife he messed up with. And before he does realize it, his shirt is being pulled on by your husband, who throws him effortlessly on the ground.

He. Looks. Furious.

He. IS. Furious.

The gaze that Neuvillette holds is darker than the deepest parts of the ocean. His jaw is clenched and his expression is firm. His brows slightly furrowed and his fists are solidly tight. "State the reason your filthy hands were on my wife. Now." He commands as you come by his side and take his arm, putting it close against your chest, now reassured by his presence that brings you a sense of security. "M-Monsieur Neuvillette?? I- I didn't know she was your wife! I promise!" Neuvillette, as the Chief of Justice, is a cold blooded person. However, with those narrowed eyebrows and terrifying dark gaze, everyone would think he was ready to kill the man who touched you, his wife, right here and now, totally forgetting about his position.

The guy was already shaking trying to protect himself with his arms above his head, ready to receive Neuvillette's fierce blows. Although you'd have loved to see him getting punched at least once, you couldn't let your husband hit him and risk to cause a scandal. How would the people of Fontaine react if their very Chief of Justice acted the way he was going to? "Love please, calm down. Just sue him for sexual harassment. You already scared him enough like that, I don't think he'd try this again." You assured, offering him your best fake smile while pulling gently on his arm. "How cute. But sweetheart, it still doesn't change the fact that he touched you, and I can't let that slide." He started approaching his trembling figure again and this time, you pulled his arm more firmly to try to stop him. But he just is so much stronger than you. "Neuvillette, you are the Iudex! How would your people think of you? Someone could even replace you!" The scumbag can't even get up from the floor, he really just is shaking like a leaf at the sight of your husband. "Sh-she's right!! I- I won't do it again! Ever! Please just sue me! Spare me, monsieur Neuvillette the Chief of Justice, the Iudex!!" Honestly, you can't help but let out a chuckle, even he is asking to get sued. How pitiful. "Neuvi, I have an idea." You say, stepping in front of your husband, handing him his coffee. He looks down at you with a confused look, but accepts to listen to you, and you only. "Since you can't really hit him due to your status, let me do it for you! We could simply determine it as an act of self-defence. Plus, there's no one around us, and you certainly wouldn't go against me, would you?" You say, sliding slowly your hand on his hard chest. "I-" He clears his throat. "I suppose it could work, yes. Then, let your blows be mighty, my love." You let escape a chuckle and peck his cheek, totally ignoring the guy on the floor this whole time. To tell the truth, you didn't plan to actually hit him, it was mainly to prevent Neuvillette from losing his position.

Kneeling in front of him, you simply start by talking. "Am I still as beautiful as you were saying, non-stop?" You asked, now smiling genuinely. You wanted to put him in trouble. To scare him enough that he wouldn't try it anymore with any woman. He immediately glanced at the Iudex, who's anger only grew. "Th-that's not true! I never s-said that!!" At that, Neuvillette's cane met the floor with a loud sound. "Are you implying that my wife is a liar?" He asked with a tone filled with authority. "N-no! Absolutely not! I wouldn't dare!!" You laugh a little again, pleased with the sight of him regretting what he did to you. Leaning closer to him, you let him believe that you'll be more gentle than Neuvillette, only to give him a good and nice slap on the face. "That's for touching me." You slap him again, on the other side. "And that's for ruining my lovely day with my husband." His face is now printed with the mark of both of your hands, and your soul is now lighter. "If I ever catch you acting the way you did again in my workplace, I won't be as lenient. Mark my words." Added Neuvillette, to conclude this matter. "Yes!! Of course, monsieur Neuvillette!! You won't ever hear of me again!!" And just like this, he gets up and trips right there and then before getting up again and running away.

Back in his office, he is now seating in the couch, your hands in his, while you stand between his legs. "Was what I saw the only things he did to you? Or was there more to that?" He started. There was indeed more but.. Is it necessary to tell him? I mean, it's now in the past and you had already dealt with him so... It would only make your lover angrier, at that. "He didn't do anyth-" Oops, he knows you far too well. "Don't lie, my love." He says, softly. You lower your head, defeated. "Okay, I'm sorry... At first, he was only flirty, complimenting me here and there but then, he took me by my shoulder, he sat with me at the cafeteria and then... you saw what happened, and what could have happened if it wasn't for you..." Whilst listening to what that bastard dared to do to you, his wife, he tightened his hands a little bit around yours, however not enough to hurt you. After all, he would never. Neuvillette sighs, looking away from you with an upset look, before he pulls on your hands and makes you fall into his warm embrace. "Didn't you inform him that you already belong to another man?" Your arms wrap by themselves around his neck, his being around your waist. "I did, but... He said that it only made things more interesting." Neuvillette's grip only tightens, his possessiveness expressing itself by a sudden hot kiss in your neck. "Neuvi-" The Chief of Justice's teeth plant themselves on your neck, claiming you as a whole. Soon after, his warm tongue slide against your soft skin before kissing, sucking, and biting it again. "Mmh..." You only let gasps and sounds of pleasure which go right into your dear strong man's pointy ears. Your fingers pull slightly on the roots of his shiny silver hair, resulting in grunts on his part. Neuvillette's soft lips capture yours il a loving kiss filled with burning desire, not allowing you a single moment, a second, to breathe. Fervorous kisses attack your poor mouth, trying to catch up with his rhythm but you can't. He is devouring his smaller wife's mouth as a starving husband. "Mmh- Neuvi, wait-" Nothing to do. As you try to speak against his hot lips, a huge hand of his draws her path to your butt, grabbing a handful of your right cheek. His other hand? He slides it on the small of your back to shift you in a laying position on the couch.

That day, everyone who walked by your husband's office knew who you were to him..

[brotherly-lov3]

A deep thorough look into Huey and Louie's sibling bond

It's to no one's surprise that these two share a sweet and close connection as they're one of DT 17 show's main duos, but there are some details that add more prespective to their bond that could go unnoticed and overlooked.

And as a fan of their bond I'd gladly point out some of those details, so bear with me...

Let's start with the thing that defines their bond most. It's the comfort they get from one another. As we've seen when Louie got attacked, the first thing he did was to go to Huey for comfort, and When Louie was feeling bad, in Timephoon ep, and apologized for accidentally making them disappear, Huey's first thought was to comfort him and bring him in for a hug.

Louie also provides an equally important emotional support for Huey. He cares about his brother's emotional state and uses careful words to lessen his anxiety; like when he comforted Huey and cheered him up when he was nervous about going to the contest without the JWG.

He also jumped in to protect him when he started to get anxious from Dewey's continous protests and reassured him, even though Louie himself wasn't a fan of his new legs either.

The one time when Louie triggered Huey intentionally because he was tired of adventuring, he immediately looked guilty, feeling bad for doing so.

They feel safe around each other. Louie said it before, and it was obvious in the way they jump in each other's arms —literally— when they're scared. During the final credits, Huey and Louie looked terrified falling off the plane, but that look was wiped away once they found and held onto one another <3

We can see that Huey does his best to prevent any harm near his brothers by taking safety measures. He's protective of them, which made him Louie's choice for shielding, knowing his brother will rescue him.

Accordingly, protecting Huey is also a priority to Louie. He'd just grab Huey's hand when he runs away from danger. When Huey was being tugged by the money shark, Louie rushed to save him, not letting him go, and both ended up inside the shark.

Huey and Louie share a close connection, and the way they act like bffs is so precious. Putting a casual arm around the other's shoulder, vibing and going silly together, teasing and annoying each other all the time.

Huey even wanted to practice a secret handshake with Louie when he saw the three Caballeros perform theirs.

They go to one another for help. Like when Huey made Louie dress as him and lie to Fenton's mum and Gyro, and when Louie kept persuading Huey to help him with Louie Inc. even though Webby was more than willing to do the checklists job for him.

Another thing is so important about their dynamic is that they cherish the bond they have. They like their closeness to one another, and they showed that off in 'the spear of Selene ep' when they literally built a statue of themselves high-fiving, looking proud. 

And as the oldest brother, Huey cares for Louie. In the video of Huey's 30 things, 'making sure Louie also was having fun' was one of them. You can see that clearly in 'Glomtales ep' when Huey left his iPad for Louie before leaving, aware that his brother gets bored easily. Not only that, but also he was the only one who called Louie later, trying to include him in their journey and excited to share the fun with him. Huey only hung up when he saw no point if his mum wouldn't let him show stuff to Louie.

It's also so cute that Huey always tries to win Louie over on his side whenever he argued with other characters.

Louie cares about Huey as well that he gets sad when Huey's mad at him and happy when he receives praise from him. In the Halloween ep, Louie was so determined to gain the candy fortune, but upon seeing how upset Huey was about it, he gave it all up.

Louie was probably the one who really understood what did the woodchuck mean for Huey more than anyone else; while everyone looked shocked when Huey lost the challenge against Violet, Louie was the only one who looked sad for him.

It's also telling how Louie would feign reading from a book when he pretends to know about something, imitating his oldest brother (Louie always uses the internet as a source of information) and would disguise as him a lot.

It proves that Louie looks up to Huey and that made it a good conclusion when Louie was the one to keep the JWG after Huey was kidnapped and use a book for the first time to find their brother.

That arc got closed when Huey's brothers finally acknowledged the book's importance, which led to one of the sweetest hugs in the show.

Huey and Louie make such an integrated team as they have complementary types of intelligence. Huey was the one who usually knew what they should do, and Louie was the one who better knew how to do it.

When they team up they work in sync and fall into an easy rhythm. And I think they would be as good of a team as Scrooge and Donald in 'the most dangerous game night ep' if they actually had a chance to play with everyone else.

Last thing I want to talk about is their opposite personalities. Huey's the responsible, honest and active oldest triplet. And Louie's the careless, tactful and lazy youngest triplet. This contrast was the main focus on throughout their arc as they showed in many episodes how Louie just acted irresponsibly all while Huey judged and reprimanded him for being lazy and getting them into so much trouble. It made Louie annoyed sometimes, thinking his brother was overreacting or trying to ruin his plans, until he discovered Huey was right later.

However, that arc ended with a sign of love. When Huey explained, in 'the fight for castle McDuck ep', that he learned to take the hard way to protect them from falling into trouble like Louie always got them to when he used the easy way. This time though, he didn't say it with an accusing tone, he said it affectionately as he hugged his brother close. Louie was even distracted for a bit before realizing what he said wasn't all flattery.

The message was that at the end of the day, Huey just appreciated his brother, trouble and all, lazy and all, 'pulling a Louie' and all. It was just beautiful.

This took so long so I'm going to stop here. Thank you everyone who reached this far. If you have anything to add, feel free to do so. REALLY I'D LIKE TO READ YOUR THOUGHTS.

I wanted to write about them since I came here, and I finally got inspired to do so thanks to @writebackatya 's poll.

[cursedpiratestash]

omg i love your writinggg🫶🏽

how about talon hc’s with a reader who on one occasion dodged their kiss because they were busy doing something else? like cooking, doing paperwork, cleaning, <3

Talon x Reader

“I’m busy” Headcanons

a/n: I wanted each to have their own set up so this leans more towards scenarios i hope that's okay! Thank you for enjoying my work I appreciate it a lot!

Doomfist

It was a long day for him when he returned to his place beside you. With you in his company he’s hopeful that you could ease his mind from the disaster that was today

In a tired yet powerful stride he moves to hold you close by the small of your back and kiss you on your soft lips to greet you

When you swat him away he is taken aback for just a moment

Fortunately he immediately pinpoints as to why

As fiery as you were he was positive he hadn’t done anything to cause conflict with you in a while

It took one look to notice you were focused on a game on your phone

He only shook his head with a soft laugh through his nose or a half-heartedly snide remark before he patiently waits for you to either win or lose

Regardless of the outcome he pulls the phone away from you and guides your face to his

You’d forgive him for interrupting anyways

All in all probably the calmest about it and plans to get what he wants when you’re available rather than risking a fight by overplaying his dominant role

Reaper

Not necessarily being the forgiving-type, Reyes narrows his eyes at you when you dodge his affection on his way out

He notices that your movements were frantic as though you were looking for something. When he questions you on this you give him enough of an answer for him to help you

With a roll of his eyes he snatches whatever you were looking for in seconds and presents it to you

He almost scolds you for your forgetfulness as he does so

When you reach for it he is quick to swipe it from your grasp and peers down at you with an expectant look

With a roll of your eyes you grant his wish and give him a smooch before he relinquished the item to you

He milks the moment by pulling you closer to him 

His expression slightly softens for the kiss before he bids you farewell with a pet name and a small peck on your forehead

When it comes down to it he would hold it against you just because he isn’t that big on displays of affection in the first place

Gets over it rather quickly though

Moira

With one of her experiments showing great promise Moira begins to feel celebratory. The next time she sees you she greets you with a tender smile and a beckoning hand

However when you raise a hand at her in a “Just a minute” gesture her face melts into an unimpressed expression

She easily closes the distance between you to look over your shoulder

You’re doing some form of paperwork; perhaps filling some report from the latest mission or something

Whatever it was kind of kills the mood for her anyways

‘Just busy work’ she would think to herself before she strokes the side of your face and turns your head towards her with her index finger and thumb gently holding your chin

“Don’t keep me waiting long,” She would finish with a pet name before granting you a lingering kiss and leaving you to your work

By the time she’s gone you well have forgotten what you were even writing

Anyways she's pretty understanding, but it isn’t everyday that she wants to spend an intimate moment with you outside of your home so it's up to you to get in on it before the window closes

Sombra

Probably had just finished a rather difficult job as she plops down next to you on the couch you shared with her

Almost out of habit she leans over to wrap her arms around you to pull you towards her with your head on her chest to pepper kisses on your face

When you move away she is immediately confused and dejected on a smaller scale

You show her the cleaning supplies you brought out and mention that you were just about to get started

With a quick scan of the room she could tell it wouldn’t take very long

Despite this she gives you a bored look and pulls you back in anyways explaining that you could get started later and that she’ll even help out as well

But for now she really just wants to unwind with you and cuddle while you watch a movie

You knew this meant you two would probably take a nap instead but you allow it as it's usually a good excuse to give Sombra some much needed rest anyways

She isn’t the biggest fan of rejection and usually plans to get what she wants even if it means pulling on a heart string or two

She does it out of love of course

Mauga

It’s a calm day with nothing but the mundane scheduled ahead of you

After polishing Gunny and Cha-cha, Mauga leisurely makes his way down to the kitchen where you were preparing something sweet and light

He greedily sniffs the air and compliments your skill before leaning down towards you, lips first and eyes closed

When nothing happens he opens his eyes to see your back facing towards him as you offer him nothing more than a “thank you”

There you leave his beautiful lips pouting at nothing

His face turns into a mock hurt expression despite how you don’t notice him waiting behind you

“How about a little sugar my way?” He’d ask with a cheeky grin

If that doesn’t get your attention he would resort to smearing whatever confection you have onto your cheek to get you to stop working 

Honestly by then he usually steals a kiss so good it leaves your head spinning

Out of all the members he’s probably the most immature about it and will always find a way to get you to look at him

Will always charm his way through anything and everything

Widowmaker

On the rare occasion that she’s feeling unbearably affectionate is on a beautifully rainy day

She starts by waltzing up behind you as silent as a mouse then proceeding to wrap her arms around your waist, trailing one hand up your throat to push your face towards hers

When you don’t allow her to court you in her arms she scoffs as she is appalled by your rejection

You apologize profusely as she stands back with her arms crossed. What could have your attention so much so that you couldn’t pay her any mind

You explain that you desperately needed to add some finishing touches before she saw anything

“What are you blabbering about.” She raises a brow at you. When you show her the gift you’ve been preparing for her, her cold stare turns into something warmer

She rolls her eyes and accepts the gift before allowing a smile to grace her features. She hides it in your kiss as she pulls you towards her by the back of your neck

She will accept your apology this time, however next time she won’t be as merciful 

That aside she doesn’t take it too personally, but she does find it annoying unless you truly didn’t consent

So expect some empty threats until she gets her smooch

Sigma

After a long day of testing he floats into your room where he finds you laser focused on the tv screen

His shoulders relax at the sight of you despite how you hardly offer him a greeting as he enters

‘You always did love your shows,’ he chuckles to himself. With that he makes his way towards you to greet you with a proper kiss

Unfortunately he had gotten in the way of the screen with his rather tall frame causing you to quickly dodge to try to catch the ending of your show

Feeling a little embarrassed Sigma seats himself next to you and apologizes silently as to not cause anymore distraction

It doesn’t hit you until the end credits start to play that you had just been unbelievably rude. In your attempt to apologize Sigma raises a hand in defense stating that he didn’t mind one bit as he knew you didn’t mean it

He only chuckles as you snuggle up to him to try to make it up to him. Things only settle down once you give him a darling peck on the cheek

Literally the sweetest guy about it out of the whole team when he's of sound mind

Honestly finds it endearing when you’re deep in thought anyways

[n0vaisnthere]

Reader is actively bothering dan heng and at some point starts scratching him under his chin and he purrs

And then they kinda,, settle down and he falls asleep on their lap. I need purring dan heng please

Dragon turned cat

Summary —☆ giving grumpy Dan Heng chin scratches to bother him!

Contains —★ fluff, Imbibitor Lunae Dan Heng, mischievous reader, pre established relationship

Dragon turned cat. Except he sleeps like one.

Honestly.. After getting back after that big fight with ‘Phantylia’ on the ‘Xianzhou Luofu’, no doubt everyone is drained. So trudging back to their room, (Reader) makes an exhausted trek over to the car door. Himeko is going back to creating her 5th coffee, and Welt is just going to take a much needed break. March 7th is going to do some mild stress-shopping online. No worries.

But Dan Heng? Well, is it ‘Imbibitor Lunae’ now? Even just asking themselves that question makes (Reader) more tired. Though, they do feel pity for the Express’ cloud-piercer-turned-Vidyadhara. He really had gotten a lot of pressure from that and (Reader) couldn't imagine how he felt. So for now, they just wanted to go to their room and take the fattest nap they could, leaving Dan Heng to relax and rejuvenate himself.

Arriving and flopping on their bed, (Reader) turns and lays on their back to stare at the ceiling. You'd think that they would be passing out right away, but they aren't.

“..Damn..” (Reader) gruffed to themselves, body feeling achy, yet mind awake. “..Dan Heng…”

Pause.

“..Really did look even more attractive with horns and a tail.” (Reader) has come to that embarrassing conclusion purely on intrusive thoughts and thinking out loud. Which they quickly realized and groaned into their hands. “..Oh cmon (Reader).. He could be insanely hurt and all you could think about is how attractive he is…”

Internally berating themselves, (Reader) should be leaving poor Dan Heng alone. And yet here they are, gushing and tweaking out over the pure adrenaline of seeing a new side of the normally stoic and quiet member of the Express. To ease their now rioting mind, (Reader) closes their eyes in an attempt to sleep. But of course, that does not help. And instead, pictures and moments from the fight with ‘Phantylia’ kept playing over and over again. Fortunately, it wasn't all just frames of Dan Heng in his dragon form, but from how admirable he is for continuing to fight even though he could easily be exerting himself.

And that's one of the things that made (Reader) feel so fond of Dan Heng; For his constant determination and passion to protect everybody is just admirable, even if he gets hurt in the process.

..Which is why (Reader) suddenly feels the need to check-up on Dan Heng and make sure he’s okay.

Filled with an abrupt injection of energy, (Reader) springs out of bed and makes a quick trot down to Dan Heng’s room, filled with good intentions.

And yet they pause in front of his door, about to knock. They stop because… What if Dan Heng wanted to be alone? To think about all of the sins that he had to inherit from the previous ‘Imbibitor Lunae’? All of a sudden, (Reader)’s head gets heavy with guilt for lack of consideration on that part.

But to make themselves feel better, instead of making this an energetic pick-me-up for Dan Heng, (Reader) decides to just gently ask if Dan Heng needed anything. And so they knock.

Knock.

There was silence on the other side, but a small, tired ‘Come in’ was heard. (Reader), being ecstatic that Dan Heng seemed willing enough to let them in, quietly opened the door and peeked their head inside.

“Dan… Heng?” (Reader) starts off with a mellow voice. “You doing…” Their eyes glaze over Dan Heng, who is still in his Vidyadhara form for a few seconds. Those beautiful turquoise horns on the dark shade of his hair.. And that long mystical tail that curled around his body as he sat on the floor was just adorable and serene.

Shaking their head, (Reader) clears their throat softly. “..Al..right?” They finally finished as Dan Heng turned his head around.

And so, that's where his fatigue is clear. His face was a little gloomier than his normal gloomy, visible clues on him being very exhausted. Those greenish-blueish eyes were also glazed with overwhelming swirls. Stressed out this poor man. Truly.

Blinking and sighing, Dan Heng looked down at his crossed legs. “..I’m.. fine. Thank you for asking (Reader).” He responds, but just has that kind of vibe that he is clearly trying to make himself feel better and not have (Reader) worry about him.

Sensing absolute BS, (Reader) tilted their head as they ended up walking inside and closing his door behind them. “You sure? Cause it looks like you could drink some of Himeko’s coffee..” They joked, but quickly regretted it as it didn't seem like the right time to say that.

In response to that, Dan Heng only ‘Hmm'd' and didn't comment on (Reader) entering his room without explicit permission, which (Reader) subconsciously thanked.

The silence being so damn loud, (Reader) tries to then find some things to say or do that would lift Dan Heng’s spirits.

“..So…” (Reader) says a bit awkwardly. “..Do you need anything?”

“No thank you. Not at the moment.” Dan Heng responds with a firm tone that quickly falters to being a lazy and muttered response at the end.

“..Ah.” (Reader) nodded slowly.

At this point, they're just mentalling kicking themselves at how poorly planned out this little thing is becoming. Or well, didn't become since it’s been a literal wreck since (Reader) put their idea in motion.

“..I was just going to go back to meditating; Thinking about all of my newly shouldered responsibilities and stuff..” Dan Hend uttered as he sighed, staring back down on the floor.

Clearly he has been meditating for a long time, not physically sleeping or resting his sore body. (Reader) could very well see that.

“Okay well.. Couldn't you take a break from meditating for a little?” They suggest. “Maybe even catch some needed sleep..” (Reader) adds. But stop at that because it just sounds like they're bossing Dan Heng around.

However, the dragon didn't think so and looked up at (Reader) from the ground. “..MAybe you're right… But still. I have a lot on my mind and can't seem to relax.” He admits.

(Reader)’s heart pangs from feeling the heartfelt vulnerability coming from Dan Heng, as he really does try to handle things the best he could. So walk over and sit next to Dan Heng, also crossing their legs in that same kind of meditating position.

“Well, since you're tired and wanted to read, why don't I read whatever you need to you?” (Reader) offers with pure intentions.

Dan Heng’s face brightened up at the kind offer. “..How nice of you (Reader)..” He nodded appreciatively. Then shifted around and leaned back towards his small collection of books.

Tail moving out of his way, Dan Heng grabs a book about further research on ‘Synthesis’ or something. Handing (Reader) the book, Dan Heng leaned and relaxed on the floor, still in a restrictive ball.

(Reader) holds the book and shifts over to Dan Heng, but not too close. “A book on ‘Synthesis’..” They murmured in some amusement, then just opened up to a random page. “..Uhhh… ‘Omni-Synthesizer’ is used to create…”

And so for the next 10 minutes, (Reader) and Dan Heng both chill on the floor. (Reader) is much more energetic than the dragon, as the latter was just sitting there, listening along in silence as the tip of his tail flicked occasionally. But of course, things were getting repetitive, that was clear when (Reader) started to read with less energy. Even Dan Heng was nodding off to all of the ‘super intellectual information’ on the Omni-Synthesizer. Taking this as the cue to stop, (Reader) closes the book softly and sets it aside.

Sighing, (Reader) scoots up against the wall and rested their heavy on the shelf behind them. “Hah.. Sorry Dan Heng. But If I have to read ‘Omni-Synthesizer’ again I might knock myself out.” They apologized, looking at the horns on Dan Heng’s head first then at his tired face.

Dan Heng on the other hand, also followed in (Reader)’s lead, moving up and leaned against the shelf. “..It’s alright.”

“..So.. Do you feel more relaxed or..” (Reader) asks quietly, a yawn suddenly comes over them, so they just yawn into their hand. “..Cause I’m feeling tired again..”

At the question, Dan Heng’s tail sways back and forth on his floor, making no sound. “..I do feel.. Better, actually. Maybe I can actually sleep.” He sighs, feeling a little relieved and grateful for (Reader)’s help.

Smiling, (Reader) nodded and thought for a few seconds. They had an idea. A stupidly personal idea. But an idea. “..Yeah? Well uh,” They patted their lap with uncertainty. “...Maybe… A… HEAD MASSAGE would get you to fully relax??? You said before that you had a lot on your mind so why don't I smooth out those overwhelming feelings and thoughts?” (Reader) babbled.

Dan Heng stared blankly at the suggestion. Then sighed. “...Would that even work…?” He asks skeptically.

“..I don't know.” (Reader) admits sheepishly.

“Then it would be best to not try it. It might make my head hurt more.” Dan Heng said. Then looked away. He takes a deep sigh, seeming to calm his breathing.

Feeling a little embarrassed, (Reader) also looks away and at the lamp near his bed. “..Maybe you can't sleep because the light is on.” They say, reaching over then turned the lamp off.

Click.

The lights are off, and Dan Heng’s room suddenly turns dim. The only light source is coming from the radiating light from the nearby technology in the room.

Dan Heng makes no comments. And instead just sat there in silent brooding.

Silence again.

(Reader) thinks again and looks at Dan Heng once again in a side-glance. “..So.. How does having horns and a long tail feel?” They ask quietly.

Dan Heng looked over and looked away again. “It feels the same. I find myself not being able to feel them after a while.”

“Ah..” (Reader) slowly nods.

Awkward silence again.

“...So.. Were you always part of the Vidyadhara? Or did you just reconnect with…” (Reader) makes a confused hand gesture. Then dropped them, waving a hand. “..Nevermind.” They muttered at their dumb question.

However, Dan Heng paid no mind to it, and kept focusing on clearing his head. At this point, a few minutes pass with the heavy silence. And maybe from too many awkward moments, (Reader) starts dozing off. Or well, their head is going up and down repeatedly. Glancing over once again, Dan Heng looked up and down (Reader) and made a few shifts over. Their knees make contact and (Reader) jolted up and awake, only to be met with sudden weight on their lap; A pair of light blue eyes meet up and gaze at their own from below, and blinked tiredly, only to look off to the side.

(Reader) doesn't say anything at first, and just sits there stunned. And only did their attention hone in as one of Dan Heng’s horn things ghosted against their shirt. They stare and stare, Dan Heng stares and stares off to the side in return. Kind of an awkward action, but (Reader) makes do with it and slowly brings a hand to pat the top of Dan Heng’s head,

His hair is soft. It was visually longer, and more… Luscious?? Voluminous? Whatever it is, it’s satisfying to the touch, quickly making (Reader) addicted to petting it as weird as it sounds. Dan Heng just closed his eyes at the sensation, and does not reject or fuss about it. So (Reader) continued for a few more strokes and moved down to Dan Heng’s face.

Testing the waters, (Reader) makes a few pokes at his cheeks. Dan Heng makes a surprised grunt at first, but does not react any further.

So. Progress..? (Reader) stops poking and moves down to his chin, cupping the soft V-shape with their fingers, thumb rubbing up against his cheek. Dan Heng’s eyes remained closed, but slightly tensed at the newfound touch, but he ultimately leaned into (Reader)’s hand and made a shallow, relaxing sigh. But that ‘sigh’ comes out as some kind of… Purring noise.? Or the small, cute and soft ones that a cat would make.

(Reader) freezes, then resumes again. Who knew dragons could make such noises. Every few strokes and rubs on his cheeks produced similar meowlings, and caused some reaction in his tail - which swayed back and forth in a gradual pace, much like a feline.

Not sure how much time passed, (Reader) figured that this would be a good time to have Dan Heng take a nap and rest his body finally. Only to look down and find the Vidyadhara-being already dozing away, still leaning into their warm, soft touch with his smooth skin. (Reader) smiled to themselves, happy that they could finally have Dan Heng rest and get the sleep he deserved.

Dan Heng made another faint purring noise as he slept, and (Reader) had to hold back snickering.

Ironic how a majestic Vidyadhara could make such adorable noises while being comforted and sleeping soundly.

.・。.・゜✭・WRITTEN BY: vxxxvnii (email me for more direct contact: vxnaly@gmail.com)

A/N: Please enjoy :3 Lmk if you guys like me or NOVA better /j SUPER LONG IM SORRY!!!! I was having a brain fart writing this

[beomiracles]

HI SERENE!! i’ve been reading your works for months now and ive never sent in a request before but im on my period rn and im so so horny 😭 i was just scrolling on tumblr and i had this thought of beomgyu being a panty stealer. like beomgyu being your roommate would steal your underwear and masturbate and cum on then and when you finally piece everything together he fucks your brains out repeatedly all over your guys’ apartment and then would steal your underwear each time adding to his collection. and the thing is he’d probably buy you more just so he could steal them again lol

i can’t wait until next week when this torture ends 😭

⌞ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ⌝

DREAM RECALL it was no secret that your roommate was behind your panties going missing. You had just never expected to be so turned on by the whole ordeal.

wc -> 2.6k

pairings non-idol!beomgyu x afab!reader warnings big time perv!beomgyu, beomgyu steals readers panties, reader kinda watches him get off for a moment, oral (f. rec), face sitting, cum eating, hm think that's it !

#serene adds ✎... you guys are so freaky...I love it ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞ I live for the perv!beomgyu agenda, and I will die on this hill. Praying your period will go away quickly because that shit sucks </3 this is not proofread I'm super tired heh

You don’t know when it started.. Actually it might have been around a month ago. It was subtle at first, almost unnoticeable, but as time went on you started realizing that your underwear pile would shrink with each wash. In the beginning it was only the simple ones, the ones that didn’t stick out, the ones he thought he could get away with. It was almost endearing, how slick he thought he was being.

But last week is when the theft made your eyebrows raise. Your roommate had snatched your most expensive piece of lingerie, not to mention, your favorite. Honestly you didn’t know if you should consider him brave or stupid, but as you watched him try and act normal with you during dinner, you settled on the latter. 

Perhaps it should’ve creeped you out, your roommate that you’d known for less than six months, stealing your panties doing god knows what with them. But it didn’t. In fact you would be lying if you said that it didn’t turn you on, just a little. And though you had never actually seen or heard him, you could only guess what he used them for. Your mind easily conjured images of him, sprawled on his bed with your used underwear hovering above his face, inhaling your scent as he fucked himself dumb on his hand. 

Choi Beomgyu and you had quickly become good friends after getting an apartment together not far from campus. You often helped one another with your studies and walked to class hand in hand almost every morning. — It was an acquaintance that had sparked out of pure convenience, fortunately blooming into a great friendship, but now it was slowly distorting into something far more intimate as Beomgyu seemed unable to keep his perverted antics at bay. You often went out with friends, leaving him to roam the apartment, which he did, your room seemingly his main target. And this night was no different. 

It’s well past midnight and in your tipsy state, you struggle to jiggle the keys into the lock. Finally stumbling inside the small hallway, you shut the door behind you, albeit somewhat louder than you’d aimed for. You tiptoe through the dark living room, almost hitting your leg on the dresses between the two doors leading to your bedrooms. With a hushed curse you reach for the door handle only to realize that you wouldn’t have to. Because your door was already open. 

That was weird, you always made sure to close it. With the nudge of your foot, it glides further open, revealing your dark and empty room. Thinking no less of the unusual occurrence, you strip yourself off your clothes as you get ready for bed. But then there it is again, another anomaly. — You could have sworn that you made your bed in the morning, yet the sheets were rustled, your pillow moved, almost as if someone had slept in here. And upon touching the flimsy blanket, you find that it’s still warm. 

Odd. Your room smelled an awful lot like Beomgyu. 

⋮

You thought that perhaps he might come clean, confess his perverted behavior or even his underlying feelings. But he never did. Another week passed and by now you were starting to run low on underwear. — You decided that if he wasn’t going to out himself, then you would simply have to catch him in the act. Easy enough, right? 

Your fingers graze across the smooth silk of the many pieces presented before you. Reds, pinks, even some blues, you thought long and hard about what to get; even asking a worker to colormatch you. In the end you decided on a white lace set, it was accompanied by a few pink bows. It was perfect. — You felt pretty in it, very pretty. And as you twirl in front of your mirror, your stomach tingles in anticipation. 

Beomgyu wasn’t very smart, at least not when it came to you. It was easy to trick him into believing that you’d be gone for the evening. What wasn’t so easy was squeezing yourself into the tight space of your closet. Crammed between heaps of clothing and a few boxes you had yet to unpack, it was uncomfortable to say the least. However, the sound of your bedroom door creaking open not even fifteen minutes after you heard the front door shut, made it all worth it. 

He’s quiet, funnily enough, you wondered why, it wasn’t like there was supposed to be anyone home. Yet he silently shuts the door behind him, carefully walking over to your dresser as he slides his fingers across the painted wood. — The small crack the closet allowed made for a narrow view but you could clearly make out the way he rummaged through your top drawer, seemingly familiar with where you kept your panties. “What a freak”, you thought, yet your heartbeat picked up as you watched him find a pair he liked, bringing the fabric to his nose as his eyes fluttered closed. 

You watch as he throws a glance toward your bed, the duvet neatly folded, just like you always left it. Then he makes his way over and your jaw slacks as you realize just what was going on. As if the scent of your panties wasn’t enough, he lets his head fall to the side as he inhales the fragrance of your pillow. Sprawled on top of your mattress, the sheets rustle beneath him as he shifts slightly. 

Your eyes remain glued to his figure, unable to tear them away as his hand slides down his chest, dipping beneath his sweats as he slowly strokes his cock. You knew that your roommate was up to some perverted shit when he thought you didn't know, but actually seeing it happen, and in your room, on your bed, it made everything so very real. — He traps his bottom lip between his teeth, emitting a soft groan as his thigh twitches. His free hand has your panties captured in a tight grip as he keeps them to his nose, inhaling your scent with each breath. 

Too caught up in the way Beomgyu was touching himself before your very eyes, you almost forget that you were supposed to catch him. Blinking, you give yourself a small mental slap for getting so distracted. He was a sick freak, that’s right, and you were about to confront him. With one final deep breath, you push the closet door open. It makes a creaking noise but he doesn’t seem to hear it. Too lost in his own pleasure, his head thrown back as his hand worked up and down his cock. 

“I washed those sheets yesterday.” 

The small comment echoes out through your room like that of a church bell and Beomgyu immediately freezes as his head jerks up. The hand down his pants quickly withdraws as he clumsily tries to hide your panties behind his back, pressing himself against the headboard to get as far away from you as possible. His prominent Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and you find your gaze lingering on the small movement as you bite your lip. 

“I thought you were… you”, he trails off, biting the inside of his cheek as his face flares up in all shades of red, beyond embarrassed over the situation in which you’d caught him in. You shake your head, biting back the grin threatening to spread across your lips. — “I wasn’t, it wasn’t.. I mean I didn’t..” He blabbers, trying to come up with excuses and lies to cover his evident crime. 

“I know you’ve been stealing my panties.” You shrug, feigning indifference as your eyes drop to the hand behind his back. He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it, “why didn’t you just tell me?” — You swallow, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “I mean, isn’t the real deal better?” 

He frowns, sitting up straighter as he tries clearing his throat. “The real deal..?” He mumbles, though his words soon fall short as his gaze drops to the way you hike your skirt above your stomach, revealing the new lace set you had bought solely for this occasion. — Beomgyu lets out a strangled noise from somewhere in the back of his throat, squirming on the mattress as his eyes glue to the way your panties hug your figure. 

“What the fuck”, is all he says, his sentence coming out as a short breath, his gaze momentarily flitting back up to yours before drifting down again. You quickly realized that your plan didn’t exactly go further than this and that now you had absolutely no clue of what to do. Had it been a bad idea? Should you have just confronted him about it like a normal person? But his next words make all your doubts vanish. 

“Come here”, his voice is hoarse as he beckons you over. Your feet move on their own, and soon you find yourself crawling over the soft mattress in order to reach Beomgyu. You think that he might say something, anything to ease the tension between the two of you. — Instead he presses his lips against yours, albeit hesitantly, but it’s still a kiss, and an urgent one at that. The second he feels you respond against him, he pulls you closer, tongue pushing inside your mouth in a matter of seconds. 

His hands roam your skimpily dressed figure, bunching your skirt up high above your waist as his fingers twiddle the fabric of your lingerie. Resisting the urge to grind yourself onto his thigh, your legs rub together as you try to alleviate the ache building in your core. It was almost as if he could read your mind as he pulled back, his lips trailing along your jaw in a sloppy manner, his hair tickling your face as he went. 

“I want you to sit on my face.” 

You stilled at his blunt request, fingers halting on his shoulders as you swallowed. “S-Sit on your face?” You wondered if perhaps you had misinterpreted his words but Beomgyu quickly nods, pulling back as his tongue darts out to glide across his already glistening lips. “I…o-okay”, you meekly agree. 

That was how you found yourself hovering above him, gripping the headboard tightly as you bit the inside of your cheek. Beomgyu’s hands slid along your thighs, his hungry gaze unwavering as he eyed your drenched cunt, arousal seeping through the far too thin fabric of your new panties. — “Sit down, please”, he whispers, the hands on your thighs tugging you toward his face and you slowly comply. 

His mouth is warm against your clothed core as he practically kisses it. Teeth grazing across the wet material before he pulls it into his mouth. You hear him groan and for a moment you think you might be too heavy but he only urges you closer, his sharp nose prodding against your covered clit and you whine as your fingers on the headboard turn white. 

“You smell so good”, he grunts as he pushes your lingerie to the side, inhaling your now very prominent scent once more. His comment should not have made you throb the way you did, and you let out a small noise of surprise as his tongue drags across your folds, pushing between them to prod at your clenching hole. — It wasn’t like you hadn’t been eaten out before, but the way Beomgyu sighs against your cunt as he savors each droplet of your wetness feels new and foreign. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs with so much force that it might’ve hurt had it not been for his eager mouth that latched on to your clit. The squelching sound of him pushing his tongue as far inside of you as he possibly could fills your ears, it feels dirty, but at the same time you never think you’d felt more empowered. You glance down to where his face lay buried between your legs, his brows knitting together as he focuses completely on making you feel good, a sheen layer of sweat forming on his forehead. 

One of your trembling hands leaves the headboard as you reach down to gently brush a strand of hair from his eyes. The very same eyes that flicker up to meet your own as you do. Your mouth falls open at the recognition in his gaze and you feel yourself throb around his tongue as you fight to stay composed. — “You’re so pretty”, his words are muffled against your cunt, the movement of his lips making you squirm on top of him. 

His hands move from your thighs to rest on the curve of your ass, rubbing the flesh there before squeezing it softly as he tugs you closer. “Beomgyu I-I’m” your sentences come out jagged and interrupted by the breathless moans being pulled from your throat but Beomgyu seems to catch on, his tongue shifting to flick at your throbbing clit. — “Need to taste you”, he groans, his lips against yours moving with far more urgency than just seconds prior. 

When your orgasm hit it felt as if you were floating, your body weighed nothing but the world was also on your shoulders all at once. Beomgyu’s face almost became one with your cunt as he lapped up every single droplet of your high, letting you coat both his nose and chin in slick as he moaned against your core. 

Once your thighs finally stopped trembling did you try and move off of him, only to be stopped by his hands still firmly gripping your ass. “Wait”, he breathes, leaning to press a few feathery kisses to your inner thighs as his fingers hooked around the lining of your panties, slowly tugging them down. — He helps you strip out of the flimsy garment as he lays you down flat on your back. 

The white lace gripped tightly in his fist, he raises it to his nose as he inhales your scent all over again. “Fucking hell”, he mumbles gaze flitting between your used lingerie and your wide eyes as you peer up at him. “Mind if I keep these?” He asks, letting the piece of clothing dangle in front of your face with a small smirk. Quickly nodding, you gasp as you feel the tip of his cock rub against your already sensitive cunt. 

“One more?” He pouts before leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. 

⋮

You lost count of how many times Beomgyu brought you to an orgasm that night, and the night after that, and the one after that. The days almost blended together as you spent the majority of them wrapped in his warm embrace. It didn’t matter where or when, the kitchen, the shower, on the couch, his bed, your bed… And Beomgyu would always make sure to get something out of each occurrence. 

“Open it”, he motions toward the small box currently placed on your lap. Your fingers pull at the small ribbon holding it together before carefully lifting the lid. Unable to hide the small huff of disbelief as your eyes fall on the piece of silk inside. — “Really?” You ask as you bring the dark red panties up. But Beomgyu only smirks as he leans closer, one of his hands sliding along your thigh. 

“Yeah, why not? You’re gonna look so fucking sexy in it.” — You raise a questioning brow as you snatch the lingerie from his reaching hand, “you bought this for yourself, didn’t you?” He only shrugs, a sly smirk tugging on his lips. 

“Can you blame me?”

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[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I Knew You in Another Life, You had that Same Look in Your Eyes

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Throughout the flagship series

Warnings: Self harm; Allusions to Abuse; Poorly written smut (kinda); Allusions to canonical character death

Summary: It all started with a smile.

A/N: I have been having trouble finding time to write recently. When I do have time, I’m either too tired or just don’t have the desire. I know it’s not what people are waiting for, but here’s some fluff. Rambling, really. Anyway, here it is. I love you all and I'll update Blood Ties and other things as soon as I can.

It was his smile. 

From the moment he smiled at you for the first time, you knew you were his. Daryl didn’t just smile at anyone. No, he had a look he gave that was a near grimace to signal he was content or appreciative, and folks were lucky to get that. There was a time you could be counted among those fortunate few. 

At the quarry, you barged into his space, intent on arguing with him, but your foot got caught in the strap of his bag and you tumbled into his tent face first, muttering every colorful word in the English language. You had one hundred percent expected him to harshly admonish you for your uninvited entrance, but he didn’t. Nor did he laugh. When you looked up at him—your face red, hair askew—you found him smiling. A smile that was inches from a chuckle that had been held at bay, but still—a smile. 

You felt like even more of a fool then, for falling on your face. And for the way the fluttering of butterflies in your tummy could be seen stark naked in your expression. You had entirely forgotten what you had initially come to say to him. 

From that moment, Daryl Dixon held your heart. 

It was your smile. 

Daryl had never been a man who put much stock in love. It was a silly, pointless notion that only allowed the heart to open long enough to be crushed more easily. He had never even really found himself attracted to anyone, much less interested in them enough to entertain the idea of loving them—or the idea of them loving him. 

Then you came along. From the moment you stepped out of that truck that was meant to bring back his brother, he knew he was a goner. He tried to fight it, told himself that he was being an idiot, that Merle would call him a pussy and damnit, the man would be right. 

It didn’t take long for you to wiggle your way past his defenses. Though he had been watching you warily, keeping his distance when he could, he could have never predicted the moment you would render him undone. You were doing your laundry alone by the fencing toward the edges of the Greene farm. He had truthfully wandered into your space to scold you about being there alone. But a single wasp had a different idea. 

It landed on your hand just as you reached toward the water, garment in your soft grip. He opened his mouth to speak, flinching when you screeched and threw the clothing. Your panties hit him square in the face and, like a fool, he lifted a hand and caught them as they fell. Words fled, embarrassment raged. His mouth moved like a gaping fish but then you were smiling. You didn’t laugh at him, didn’t make fun. You apologized and approached, gently extricating the fabric from his hand, your smile steadfast. 

And from that moment, he was fucked. 

You were watching Daryl discuss a particularly dangerous run with Rick. He was standing by the gate, hands on his hips while you were perched at one of the picnic style tables with Carol at your side, a basket of laundry and a tub of water at your feet. 

You were hardly paying attention to what you were supposed to be doing, continually stealing glances. 

And then he caught you. 

Your hands froze on a pair of jeans, the fabric dripping into the tub, your eyes widening. You were unable to look away. Whether he was in the same predicament or was just simply challenging you was unclear. 

Until he smiled. 

You damn near melted and he knew it. There was a heat that started in your cheeks, spreading down your neck to your chest and all the up to the tips of your ears. You swore you could feel it on your scalp. 

When he finally chose to stop making your pulse race, switching his gaze back to the map in Rick’s grasp, you exhaled, wondering if you had breathed at all. There was a chuckle beside you, Carol’s head turned away while her shoulders bounced. You muttered a quick shut up and nudged her with your elbow, aggressively scrubbing at the jeans. 

Shaking her head, Carol also returned to the task at hand. “Oh, sweetie. You’ve got it bad for that man.”

You couldn’t disagree. 

His eyes flitted up to your approaching form, and he quickly wiped the remaining ashes from the top of his hand. Clearing his throat and wiping his eyes with his forearm, he fixed you with a weak glare. 

“Cut it out. I already know.” You slid down the side of the trunk, shoulder to shoulder with him, presenting an open palm. “Let me see.”

Daryl felt his chest tighten. You had seen the scars given to him when he was a boy, but those weren’t self inflicted. He had added to the collection on his own—a few times more than he cared to admit. But he knew you. Caring yet determined. You wouldn’t relent until you got what you wanted. Heaving a sigh, he reluctantly placed his hand where you beckoned for it. 

“Ain’t nothin’.”

“Don’t do that.” You answered without a single ounce of hesitation. “Don’t act like your pain doesn’t matter.”

“It don’t.” He rasped, feeling the sting threatening his waterline. “Not when ev’ryone else is sufferin’ too.” When he tried to retract his hand, your fingers wrapped around his wrist and tugged it back, a hell bent expression on your pretty features. 

“That’s bullshit, Daryl.” You held his gaze for longer than he was entirely comfortable with given your proximity. Grunting, he turned his head but let you hold onto his hand. “This’ll likely scar.” You finally said so sadly that he couldn’t help but look at you again. 

“Ain’t like I ain’t got a few already.” He couldn’t seem to look away. Daryl had admitted to himself long ago that he was stuck on you. He didn’t love easily, didn’t know how, but for you, he was willing to learn. And the way you were looking at him in that moment was giving him that fluttering sensation in his chest that he had grown accustomed to when you were close. 

Your eyes flickered down to his mouth and promptly back up. He was filled with such a foreign hope, wishing that he could feel the softness of your lips, even if only once. You cleared your throat. “I know this is hardly appropriate, but I really wanna kiss you right now.”

He blinked. There was no way he heard you correctly. “What?” He said after a moment that lasted altogether too long, his eyes squinted. He could have slapped himself. Wasn’t he just thinking of how badly he wanted to do the same thing? Maybe he could fix it before you changed your mind, say something to encourage you to continue. “Well? G’on then.” Daryl inwardly sighed. He would have been better off keeping his trap shut. 

But then your soft palm was on his cheek, your plump lips pressing against his. His eyes shot wide while yours fluttered closed, his fingers closing around the hand that still held his. It was so simple to ignore the burn of his self inflicted injury. He allowed himself to melt into your ministrations, his blue orbs mimicked yours, mouth following your lead. It was uncomplicated but exhilarating. When he pulled back, your thumb stroking beneath his eye, your lips remained puckered, eyes still closed. 

When the bright pool of your gaze finally reappeared, your mouth opened to reveal all your teeth in a gleaming smile. “Wow.”

But Daryl didn’t hear you, mesmerized by your expression. That smile was always his undoing.

And he found he didn’t mind in the slightest being repeatedly unraveled. 

Alexandria was never going to be safe. You both knew it. Still, it was the safest you had been since the prison, especially with your group now behind its seemingly infallible walls. Jobs assigned, routines established, and residences assigned, maybe it could be home if nothing else. 

You and Daryl had requested one of the smaller houses, all to yourselves. Everyone knew you were close, but they were all ignorant to that moment in the woods, how you had thrown caution to the wind and had been so pleasantly rewarded. There were no other kisses since then, things too busy, too new to let your guard down so quickly. Everyone was at a gathering that night, knowing full well that Daryl would never attend. They might come looking for you, though. 

You wouldn’t be answering the door.

Daryl’s lips were blazing a wet trail down your neck, across your collarbone. One large hand held yours next to your head while the other gripped your waist. You arched up into him, encouraging both his mouth and the rolling of his hips, the gentle push and pull that was grazing him across your most sensitive walls. This dance had been slow, in both anticipation and execution, a gradual joining that you could savor in tandems of breathy moans and featherlight kisses. There was no reason to rush. No reason at all.

After you had both ascended to the pinnacle of ecstasy and drifted back down, you lay with his head on your chest, your fingers whispering up and down the length of his spine. He was so relaxed, breaths deep and even, that you thought he might have drifted off.

“What are we?” His voice was raspy, quiet, but not panicked. He wasn’t tripping over any thought of emotion he might convey. That said a lot for Daryl Dixon. Still, you were taken by surprise.

“What do you want us to be?” You brushed the hair away from his forehead before your fingertips explored his jaw. He snorted, though it was weak.

“Just made that obvious, didn’t I?” 

He did. You hadn’t thought about it so deeply until then. Daryl wasn’t the type of man to strip himself bare, both literally and figuratively, for just anyone. He would never let just any woman touch his scars so intimately and not flinch. Angling your neck, you pressed a kiss into his hairline. 

“I’m yours, Daryl.”

When he lifted his head, shifting onto his elbow beside you, his free hand was already brushing away your sweat-damp hair. Watching you with a gaze so deep, seemingly bottomless, the corner of his mouth raised tentatively, one side and then the other. A smile so soft, so genuine, that your heart nearly swelled too large to beat adequately behind your ribs. 

Clearing his throat, he ducked his head, the smallest flash of teeth before that upward curve of his lips disappeared. “Ya mean that?” 

“With all my heart.”

They only made it a couple of miles before Daryl was forced to let Jesus take the wheel, so to speak. The Hilltop runner was managing the bike well enough while the archer simply tried to stay awake, the constant abuse his body and mind had suffered finally able to culminate to the surface when he was free of the Sanctuary. Everything ached, inside and out. He was exhausted, ready to go home. 

Ready to see you. 

Had you been spared Negan’s wrath? Had the tyrant discovered your ties to Daryl and used them against you? Made you pay for them? Were you safe? Were you even alive?

“You can’t go back to Alexandria.” Jesus called over his shoulder. Daryl shifted uncomfortably with a grunt. He was never one to ride on the back of the bike. 

Unless it was with you. 

“They’ll be looking for you there.” The bike slowed to a stop, Jesus calling out to someone. It was then Daryl saw Hilltop’s walls, his stomach twisting with an anxiety just below the surface. 

“Need to go back.” He rasped, nearly coughing from the scrape against his vocal chords. His voice clearly suffered from the lack of use. “Need to see—”

The gates opened to reveal Maggie and Sasha. Just behind them—was you. He should fall onto his knees in front of Maggie, beg her forgiveness. 

But forgiveness would have to wait. 

He didn’t even wait for Jesus to dismount, uncharacteristically clambering off the back and into an unsteady beeline straight for you. You were already running toward him. Your voice was crying out his name in disbelief, in hopeful relief. It was mere seconds before you reached him, just enough time for his tired legs to buckle. You willingly went down with him, both sets of knees hitting the dirt as you clung to him. 

“You’re alive. Thank god, you’re alive.”

He could feel the fine tremors vibrating your form, the jerks of your shoulders as you sobbed. You should never cry. Negan would pay for making you cry. “Yeah, m’here, Sunshine.” Daryl returned your embrace with as much strength as he could muster, given his poor condition, and held on until you pulled back, your tearful gaze roaming over his person, pausing on every bruise, every laceration. 

“What did they do to you?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

He shook his head. “Didn’t break.” He backed the words with a confidence he found buried deep within, surprised he had any left after his ordeal with the Saviors. “Didn’t let ‘em break me.”

You smiled then, through your tears, and began brushing his dirty hair away from his face. “Not even a question, Bowstrings.” He didn’t hear you. He was too focused on that smile—the smile that brought him such a feeling of peace, of love. He let you guide him upright, staggered along behind you, your hand in his. Every few seconds, you looked over your shoulder, still smiling. 

Everything would be okay. 

You watched him from across the way while sitting on the porch of your home in the Commonwealth. Daryl had taken a vital role in the community after Pamela had been removed from power. Everyone had fallen into some role, but Daryl was important. He had a hand in everything. 

Carol had taken Lance’s role, organizing trade and alliances and just simply keeping the community running from behind the scenes. While Daryl refused a seat on the council, his voice was in every ear, his opinion weighing on every heart when decisions were made. 

With Mercer stepping down as head of the guard, Daryl assisted in the training of new recruits. The process of selecting the guards was much different than it had been before, thanks in large part to the man you now called your husband. 

Watching him now—lifting RJ onto his shoulders, holding him steady with a hand on the boy’s leg while his other arm encircled Judith’s shoulders—you were whole. You were happy. 

He noticed you staring—of course he did—and he smiled, lifting his chin in a nod while he and the children walked toward home. 

Home. 

That’s where you were. It’s what you felt. It was in Daryl all along. In his eyes, in his arms, in his smile. 

Daryl was home.